


Suddenly Parents: A What If Story

by MickSonnenburg



Category: His Dark Materials (TV), His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass (2007)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fatherhood, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Manipulation, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Motherhood, Mythology References, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, Revenge, Sister-Sister Relationship, Twelve Gods of Olympus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), explicit violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 107,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23945992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MickSonnenburg/pseuds/MickSonnenburg
Summary: Unexpectedly on a beautiful evening in Svalbard, when Lord Asriel is going about his daily chores, he hears footsteps and suddenly sees his lover Marisa Coulter in front of him, but she is not alone.She has her daughter with her but the girl is sick and needs her parents now more than ever before, who have to learn what they never wanted to learn, to be parents.Both of them go on a journey with their daughter that not only takes them back home, but also into a world of myths and legends while trying to protect their child from the Magisterium and possibly from their own family.But both parents also have to cope with the fact that they cannot be sure whether they can trust each other completely!!! Does not follow the cannon !!!
Relationships: Lord Asriel & Lyra Belacqua, Lord Asriel/Marisa Coulter, Lord Asriel/Original Character(s), Lyra Belacqua & Original Character(s), Lyra Belacqua/Marisa Coulter, Marisa Coulter & Madame Delamare, Marisa Coulter & Marisa Coulter's Daemon, Marisa Coulter/Other(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 86
Collections: A Horrible Nice Family





	1. Unexpected Visitors

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, small adjustments,

* * *

THE BEGINNING OF THE FIRST ACT

* * *

Lord Asriel, who was currently staying in his laboratory in Svalbard, takes a chair and placed it in front of his little mirror. His Daemon, a snow leopardess, Stelmaria stretches out her big and strong body besides the chair then Asriel himself takes a seat.

“My well-deserved break, Stel,” he mumbles, taking a deep and satisfied breath, which finally tells him that he now could enjoy the silence and to have his rest from a long series of experiments, but these experiments he carried out during the day were very exhausting, therefore, he was sweating a little. 

His short blond hair was already slightly damp when he leans back in his chair and looks at himself in the mirror. His blue eyes sparkled in the light of the lamps just like his hair, he was handsome with his beard no question. His beard on the other hand certainly made him scarier besides his handsomeness, but today it was time to shave.

So Asriel grabbed a towel with his right hand, moistened his beard, and covered his chin with shaving cream. Then he takes his razor blade and carefully lets the blade slide over his face, feeling a gentle pressure as the blade did its job perfectly, but, a few minutes later, as Asriel was still shaving the resting Stelmaria pricked up her ears, looking in the direction of the door.

Asriel for his part felt her behavior. He turned away from the mirror and gently touches the snow-white fur of his daemon. 

"Easy, girl," he says with a slight giggle. "I'm starting to think that you hear ghosts."

“I do not like this, Asriel,” Stelmaria growled in a dark voice. “Something is wrong here!"

“Don't worry, there's still a storm raging outside … so relax, my girl” Asriel turned back to the mirror and continued to shave but something in Stelmaria remained uneasy, she continued to look at the door in a tense manner, while a few silent minutes passed. Lord Asriel was then wiping the last shaving cream off his face when he himself heard the noises coming from outside.

"What the hell?!"

The sounds grew louder and Asriel pricked up his ears. He looks at the door, worried and excited, like Stelmaria, who had stood up and was ready to intervene as a loud and echoing click of heels sounded. They followed at rapid intervals, as if someone was desperately trying to reach them both.

"Asriel, oh God Asriel where are you?!" A woman's voice called from the door. She stormed into the room like a hurricane and stops panting in front of Lord Asriel. He himself was shocked as if he was struck by lightning. He jumps up from his chair so quickly that it knocked the chair backwards.

"Asriel ..." The woman bursts into tears and sobs loudly. Her gaze turns to her arms, she is holding a little six-year-old girl in her arms. "You have to help us,” she said.

"What …. Marisa?!” Lord Asriel recognized the young woman, her curly brown hair sparkled in the light of the lamps. She was one of the most beautiful women in his life, maybe the most beautiful one, but she was the love of his life, who also had many secrets to hide and her visit was not without a reason.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Asriel asked with an angry voice.

The Golden Monkey jumped from Marisa Coulter’s shoulder, in his hand he held a sparkling golden compass an Alethiometer.

“Hm,” Asriel briefly shakes his head, his vision became much clearer. His Ex-Lover held young Lyra, their mutual daughter, Lyra, in her arms. She seemed to be sleeping as Asriel noticed. Not a single part of her body was moving when she was in her mother’s arms, only her quiet, calm breath could be heard.

"What happened, why is Lyra with you?" asked Asriel excitedly, he raged with anger at his old love for whom he still had feelings.

"I took her in when you disappeared," Marisa explained with a trembling voice. "We spent six weeks together in London, but suddenly she ran away from home."

"Marisa, what have you done?" 

Asriel clenched his fists, Stelmaria hissed and the golden monkey Oz steps a few steps back to Marisa, fearfully hiding behind the legs of Lyra’s mother with the alethiometer in his hands as he kept a watchful eye on the snow leopardess. 

When he felt safe moments later, Marisa begins to speaks in tears, "Asriel … I … I tried to raise our little Lyra Louisa like a proper mother would do, but I failed. I did everything wrong what you could do wrong and then she had enough of me and my life …. She ran away from home as I said. Then of course I was looking for her and concluded that she was looking for you here in Svalbard. However, her adventure went wrong, I found her half-frozen a few hours ago. She suffers violently ... Asriel our baby needs our help."

“For heaven's sake!” 

Asriel nodded in agreement and excitedly called for Thorold, his faithful servant. His fear for his only child grew from second to second.

Moments later, Thorold hurried over as fast as he can from the kitchen to Asriel until panting, he stops in front of his master.

"Yes, MyLord what do you wish?" Asked the old Man worried.

With a booming commanding voice Asriel thundered, "I need a hot bath for Lyra. Prepare one right away. It's urgent, old friend.”

“Yes, my Master,” Thorold disappeared immediately in the direction of the bathroom.

Marisa Coulter had meanwhile gone with Lyra into Asriel's bedroom, where she desperately tried to warm the girl up with a thick fur blanket, which she wrapped around the girl and another layer of two thick covers over the first blanked. In conclusion she tried everything to make the sleep as comfortable as possible, even if the girl didn't notice any of it, just like Pantalaimon, Lyra’s daemon, who slept together with the child, as a little ermine. 

Marisa herself, realized that she had done everything possible, takes a seat on the bed and thought silently about her past. 

She had denied this girl for six years of her life and now when she truly took care of her for the first time, feelings were released that she had suppressed for a long time.

Anger and sadness 

Anger and sadness shot through her body. How could she have been such a bad and cold-hearted mother? How could she ever live with that? Abandoning her only child, which was from a religious point of view truly the sin of her long life. She had in fact now failed not only as a human, but also as a mother. The damn gobblers were more important to her than her own flesh and blood.

Suddenly, lost in thought, Asriel came into the room. With his hands in his pockets, he let himself sink into the nearby armchair, which stood beside the other side of the bed from where he could see his Ex-Lover, his child mother, his true love, which made him realized that he had failed too. That he was selfish, and only concentrated on his research too. 

He had pretended to be Lyra's uncle, he had lied to her for years, he had disappointed her all the time and he was the man who had always pushed the girl aside annoyed, although she only wanted to spend some time with him. Lyra only wanted to travel to the north with him for once in her life, which was her greatest wish she ever had, but Asriel refused to let her. How desperate he must be to deny a little girl this request.

“My Lyra,” he sighed and looks at Marisa, his eyes were wet, he could no longer suppress the feelings he had for his only daughter like his lover.

"How could we do this, Asriel?" Marisa asked depressed, putting her hands in front of her face.

"What do you mean Marisa?" Asriel asked in return.

Marisa rises her face, looking directly into Asriel's ice-cold blue eyes, "I mean that we abandoned a little baby, our baby, our daughter … I … I can't take it anymore." She turned her beautiful tear-streaked face away from him and brushed a strand of blonde hair from her daughter's face.

Asriel watched her, he leans forward. "Marisa, we did it so she would be safe!” He says in a calm, thoughtful tone. “She should grow up far away from the madness of the Magisterium and our work so she could have a normal life, which she truly deserves." 

“She deserves to live with us,” Marisa herself replied threateningly, “she had never deserved to live among a few old, arrogant, and dirty scientists at Jordan College. Locked up in a little room and just a few rags as clothes."

"What should I have done, Marisa? Leave her to the fucking Magisterium so she’ll become a faithful Christ?" Asriel rolled his eyes, his anger increased. He points with his index finger to Marisa, "you throw her away like a piece of garbage, you ran away from your duty as a mother and then you betrayed me."

Marisa fired back, "Damn it, Asriel, I had no choice. If the dust of the trial had settled, my mother would have raised our Lyra.”

“You think the Magisterium would have allowed that? …. Come on, honey, dream on, your little fantasy world is screwed up anyway.”

"That's not important anymore Asriel, for once in your fucking life put your hate for me away. Our daughter is lying here, she is sick," Marisa's mood changed, she softened again. "Asriel, honey, our little baby is helpless and alone. She has only us and needs us both now together as her parents."

“You're right I'm sorry," Asriel calmed down. "I shouldn't have reacted that way.” He rose from his armchair, thoughts shooting through his mind. After a few silent minutes, Asriel finally spoke, "She will stay with me where she is safe for now."

"And further Asriel, what are you going to do then?" Marisa asked, smoothing Lyra's covers.

"We both do our work, I here and you in Bolvangar,” Asriel replied firmly, sending Stelmaria to Oz to take care of Pan then he continued, “And you can of course sleep and live here but under no circumstances, if the Magisterium finds out that Lyra is here with us, she will be in danger. Maybe she will be taken away from us forever."

“Then, we have to be careful, especially me. We have to learn to be parents,” finished Marisa Asriel’s sentence. She pressed a fragrant kiss on her daughter's hot forehead. Afterwards she rises from the bed and comes close to her lover. He takes her in his arms and caresses her back. Quietly, Lyra's mother cries once more and says, "I'm so afraid for our little Lyra. She is still a baby. Our baby"

“Shhhhhhh …. Don't worry my love," Asriel's says whispering, "Lyra will be healthy again. The three of us will get through this together."

Both looked at each other with bright blue eyes, “We will,” Marisa says, “because I want my daughter with everything I have. I want to bring her home, to our home. That’s the only wish I have.”

“I want to fulfill this wish for you, my love, but you have to work with me. Together we will create a future for her," replied Asriel with a firm and hopeful voice. "She will not miss anything, she will love her parents, but first we have to prepare her for that.”

Marisa smiled at Asriel, she kissed him, "Lyra must be accepted in the eyes of the Church, that's what we absolutely must achieve Asriel.”

“Then my reputation," Asriel returned Marisa's tender kiss. "You will become Lady Belacqua, honey, no one will stop us.”

He placed a lock of her hair behind her ear and looked into her face. Memories came up, he remembered old times where their love would have gone through everything. But suddenly Lyra moaned for a moment, her parents gaze’s turned worried to her, but soon came the pleasant relief as Asriel & Marisa's daughter continued to sleep very calm. She was safe for now with her parents, but the worst was yet to come. 

Asriel and Marisa’s eyes turned, moments later, back to each other and their mouths met for a loving, passionate kiss.


	2. The First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, small adjustments

Thorold, Lord Asriel's faithful servant walked with great strides very quickly towards the bathroom, because his master had ordered to prepare a bath for his young daughter, who was sleeping soundly in her father's bedroom.

The old man, who had no idea how sick she was, first opens the sliding door to the bathroom, which took him almost no strength despite his advanced age. Next, he turned on the tap of the tub, hot fresh water from the mountains now runs slowly into the cold tub, while a pleasant and warm steam was created, which filled the room and displaced the cool air that had spread in the bathroom. 

Then, Thorold provided a few towels, washcloths, soap, and shampoo. Afterwards he had to wait briefly until the tub was full enough only then he could turn off the tab of the tub.

"So,” he sighted, “that would be done!” He checked his work once more before he leaves the room, closes the door, and made his way back through the laboratory until he reaches Lord Asriel's bedroom, where he gently knocks on the closed door.

“Come in Thorold,” shouted Lord Asriel through the door.

Asriel's servant entered the room, briefly glancing worried first at the sleeping Lyra before he bowed to his master.

"My Lord, the bath for Miss Lyra is ready."

Asriel nods slightly smiling, "thank you Thorold, you can now continue to prepare dinner."

"Yes, my lord," the servant bowed once more and silently left the room.

Marisa, who was sitting on Lyra's bed, immediately pushes the covers to the front of the bed. Then she reaches out her arms, slides with her hands under the weak body of her daughter and picks the girl up, causing the girl to moan, which alarmed immediately her maternal instinct.

“Shhhhhhh …. Hush, I know that you are feeling uncomfortable, honey;” Marisa whispers, shifting Lyra in her arms. Her grip softens, but her daughter begins to move hastily in return. She moaned and yelped in her sleep, which brought father and mother back together. They put their hands on the girl's back, caressing it so gently that Lyra’s movement slowly stopped.

"Hush, my darling,” Marisa whisper again, “mama goes with you to the bathroom, where we both take a relaxing bath.” She adds and walks off together with Asriel, who kept a little distance while Marisa slowly makes her way to the bathroom, but this way was longer than expected, Marisa had to walk all the way to the back of the lab to reach the bathroom. 

Arrived there, Asriel opened the door and his lover entered the room.

"Marisa you go into the bathtub first," he said, closing the door. "I will undress Lyra and hand her over to you, then you can wash her."

“All right, honey," Marisa replied and carefully hands her daughter over to him, afterwards she begins to undress herself.

In the meantime, Asriel places his daughter on a small wooden chair across the tub, where he first carefully removes the blanket from Lyra’s body and rolled it up. Then he tilted Lyra's head forward and puts the rolled-up blanket behind her head to make it more comfortable for her to sit.

"Everything is fine Lyra," Asriel whispered and begins to undress his daughter, which he does as carefully as possible to keep the girl from waking up, however, unnoticed by him the girl slowly opens her eyes. 

"U... uncle Asriel, w... wh... where am I?” Lyra asked softly, breathing hard. “W…. wh... What h…. hap... happened?"

"Lyra …. Shhhhhhh … calmly … You're in my laboratory in Svalbard, dear,” Asriel replied softly, holding her little hand. “You almost froze to death, wouldn't you your m... m… mo…." Lyras father hesitated suddenly, the word “mother” did not want to cross his lips, forcing him quietly to curse himself. 

How could he not utter a simple word in this very delicate situation?

Because he feared it, but he pulls himself together and exchanges a glance with Marisa, who was sitting in the bathtub. Then he signs, takes a deep breath, and finally spoke, "your mo... mot... mother … She found you and brought you to me."

"My m…. mo... mother!?" Lyra sighed, looking deeply into Lord Asriel's shiny blue eyes.

"Exactly, your mother saved you, Lyra,” Asriel replied, confessing that … “I lied to you to protect you. I didn't tell you that your parents are still alive so you could have a normal life ...." 

Asriel looks away once more, he fights with himself. He did not know how to continue the conversation with her. The burden of the past weighs on him now more than ever. The loss of his reputation, Edward Coulter, and the trial. Had he not given Lyra to Jordan, she would have been presumably dead or something else bad would have happened to her.

Lyra however barely noticed Asriel's confession because she tried to stay awake and lets her gaze wander across the room as the tiredness threatened to overwhelm her. In addition, her head was throbbing with pain as was her limbs, which had the particular pain. 

Concluded …. she was at the end of her strength, but she still let her gaze wander around the room and finally discovered Mrs. Coulter. She lays relaxed in the bathtub, waving with her left hand to the confused Lyra with a big, broad smile.

"Huh … Mrs. Cou... Coulter? ho… how is th… that pos… possible?" Lyra said with a trembling voice. She shakes her head, warm tears ran down her blushed face as she turned her gaze back to Lord Asriel. "Uncle, ple... please do… don’t lea… leave me … to he... her,” she says desperate. “She to… took Ro… Roger a... away from me, she k.... kidnap… kidnapped him!”

"Lyra …. Lyra look at me,” Asriel replied sweet, gently putting his hand on her cheek, pushing her face away from Marisa. “Do not strain you, stay calm,” he adds as his blue eyes meet Lyra's dark brown eyes. He knows deeply inside in this very moment that he has to distract her so that she forgets all her worries. "Lyra, my little monkey,” Lord Asriel softly sighs, caressing Lyra's reddish cheek, “you must forget Roger …. Regrettably, he died on the journey to the north. Mrs. Coulter could not prevent it." 

Suddenly, the Room becomes silent. Only the sound of water drops, and the breathing of the little family could be heard. However, the silence was broken when Lyra burst in tears again, she sobs heavily, "the a.... aleth… alethiometer t…. tol… told me to f.... fi... find Ro.… Roger, he mu… must be ali… alive, I know it."

“No …. No, “Lord Asriel puts his hands-on Lyra's small tender shoulders. He thought about how to continue, but suddenly Marisa spoke for him, "Lyra my darling, Roger is dead, forget the alethiometer! You are with us and only that counts."

What?!” Lyra looks first desperately at Pan then at Mrs. Coulter, "b... but Mrs. C…. Cou... Coulter, w…. wh… what do…. does it mean, th… that I am wi… with my U…. Uncle and you? Lyra asked, while she cried more fiercely.

And poor Pan, who was at her side at this moment, bowed his head down in sorrow, knowing deep in his heart that she would be shocked soon as Lord Asriel turned Lyra's tilted head towards him with one hand.

"Lyra, I am your father and Mrs. Coulter .... Marisa is your mama, your lovely mommy. I'm so sorry, my little baby, we wanted to spare this from you."

"No, no, you're lying, uncle. That is not true …. It cannot be true.” Lyra yelled at her father, the words shot out of her without her stuttering, but the tears became more intense as Lyra begins to tremble with fear. Her father was immediately there to take Lyra in his arms and to give her the love she needed most in the form of tender movements with his hand on the soft back.

"Shhhhhhh …. My darling," Asriel whispers and begins to rock his only daughter in his arms. He feels now how desperately wrong he was when he had given Lyra up. To holds his daughter in his arms was just the best feeling in the world and when he was sitting on the edge of the tube and reaches out his hand, which slips into Marisa’s wet hand he feels that he was happy.

“Lyra, you are now with us, safe with mama and papa. We take care of you, I promise with my life …. My little monkey, finally, you don't have to be afraid anymore!”

“Papa …” Lyra falls, moments later after she called Asriel by his true name, silent. She reaches out her small arm and touches her father's face with her tender fingers’, which makes Asriel giggle with delight.

“I love my, my darling …” Asriel replies, he shifts Lyra in his arms, so she could finally see her mother, Marisa, who smiled at her with pure love. Her face had become so soft that Lyra had to shed a tear when she unconsciously called Marisa by her real, for Lyra reasonable, name "Mama". 

The Mama herself smirked, she rises to her feet and holds out her arms. "Asriel give her to me, she needs her mommy now," she said.

“As you wish,” Asriel stretches out his arms and passes the girl into the open arms of her mother, which forces the girl to desperately cry out in fear one last time, but her mother, Marisa, silenced the girl quickly without violence and only by her maternal instinct. Now she finally could hold her little daughter, the child she had given up in the past to protect her.

But now in the present: mommy and daddy had their daughter back after all these years and they vowed never ever to let her out of their sight. They would take care of their child as well as they could like now. And with this in mind and together with Lyra, Marisa lets herself sink into the warm, fragrant bathing water. Quickly afterwards her daughter fell asleep overtired and exhausted.

Marisa herself calms down too and relaxes completely. She takes Lyra's right hand and pulls it towards her. She squeezes the little hand tenderly and feels suddenly that Lyra's thumb was wet, so, Lyra must have sucked on it when she held her. "My little baby!" She said with a giggle and was surprised. She did not know her daughter like that, so she assumed that the child was deserted and lonely, but that was over now. She had finally found her parents!

Satisfied with this development, Marisa takes a deep breath and closed her eyes. Finally, she had what she wanted, her daughter and her lover, who leans over her, and first kisses their child then Marisa herself. 

"We have her back Marisa,” Asriel says smirking, looking into her ice-cold blue eyes too. “You and I will never let her be taken away from us ever again.”

"Never again Asriel!” Marisa returns his approach with a so loving kiss that a firework is going on in their mouths. Ice meets arousing fire, and both feel, in their bellies, how their daemons approach, how they fall upon each other and show the same love for each other as both humans, who loosen their lips with another kiss.

"Take your time, darling,” Asriel whispers, “wash our baby thoroughly. I'll check on dinner." He kisses Lyra once more lovingly on the hot forehead then he disappears from the bathroom.

Marisa watched him longingly before she shifts her concentration back to Lyra. "Mama will wash you now, my darling," she whispers, leaning forward to the sleeping Lyra. Then she begins with the warm and soaked washcloth to wash Lyra as gently and thoroughly as possible. She could also see during the process that her daemon was sitting on the chair that Lyra had been sitting on. He holds little Pan in his hands and caressed it tenderly as Marisa continues to wash her child.

* * *

* * *

When Marisa finished washing her child a few minutes later, she stayed in the bathtub with Lyra Louisa for another ten minutes before she gently detached herself from her and gets out of the tub to dry herself off with a warm towel.

After four more minutes, Lyra's mother went to the door, from where she called for her lover, who appeared shortly afterwards. She asked him to bring her suitcase into the bathroom, which of course he was only too happy to do for her. Unfortunately, it took another five minutes to carry it there, but then Marisa had her suitcase and could close the door again.

Next, Marisa carried her suitcase to a table, where she puts it down and opened it. She pulls then warm black tights and a thick pajama out of the suitcase, which she put on. Then, she picks up her white satin robe, which she put on too. Afterwards she tied the waist belt around her body with a tight knot.

“Now to Lyra!” 

Marisa walks back to the tub, carefully lifting her daughter out of the tub before she picks up a warm towel and dried her daughter as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Next, she wraps the girl in a second warm towel, so Lyra didn't freeze and placed her for good on the wooden chair.

"Then let's take a look at your clothes," comment Marisa for herself.

She takes Lyra's old clothes and put them on the floor in front of her. Then she sorts out the clothes her daughter wouldn’t need anymore and kept the warm thermal underwear including the thick warm pantyhose and the rest was tossed into the trash because, “my daughter deserves only the best,” Marisa said, returning to Lyra and starting to dress her with the Pantyhose, underwear, and a thick sweater from Asriel. 

Afterwards Marisa wraps the girl in a fur blanket before she carefully takes Lyra in her arms, making sure that she had cleaned everything up again before she carried the girl into the warm living room of the laboratory, where she carefully placed Lyra on the couch.

"Take a rest, mama will be right back,” Marisa whispers, spreading another blanket over Lyra body before she walks in a relaxes manner into the kitchen to prepare hot chocolatl, which she and her daughter desperately needed in order to relax further. To accomplish that Marisa first heated a pot of milk and takes one cups from the cupboard, which she placed on the worktop next to the stove.

Next and very unfortunately she had to wait … the milk had to heat up, but Marisa knows how to distract herself. She kept an eye on Lyra while she stood by the stove from where, with her arms crossed, she could hear her child breathing and moaning from exhaustion, which worried her very much, so she hurried.

As soon as the milk was hot enough, Marisa mixed the milk with the chocolatl powder. Then she had to wait again until the warm liquid had cooled down a bit. Marisa used this time to get her suitcase from the bathroom, which she put on the table in front of the couch and opened then a small compartment.

Lyra's baby bottle and her favorite cuddly toy appeared under Marisa’s eyes. They were the first things she had bought for her child before she was born. These two items were very sentimental to her, so Marisa kept them and hide them in a little box under her bed in her apartment until Lyra disappeared.

“The chocolatl!” 

Ripped out of her thoughts, she places the cuddly toy on the table and runs back into the kitchen with Lyra's baby bottle in hands, which she places beside her cup. Next, she takes the pot and pours almost one half into the bottle for Lyra and rest into the cup. Afterwards Marisa walks back to her child, lifts it onto her lap and carefully puts an arm around the girl, who was leaning against the chest of her mother.

Moments later Lyra receives a lovingly kiss on the mouth, which made her wake up. "M…. ma… mama?" Lyra spoke softly as she smells her mother's scent, which gently forces her to slowly opens her sleepy eyes.

"Hush, my darling, Mommy's here," Marisa replied to her in a whisper and pressed the girl closer to her. " I have you firmly and securely in my arms,” she adds and reaches out her left hand and grabs Lyra's baby bottle, which she then held in front of her eyes. "Do you recognize the bottle?" she asked curiously.

Lyra touched the bottle, took the warm bottle in her hands with a tired smile. She knows this warm feeling but didn't know how to classify it.

"No mommy," Lyra replies, shaking her head, "I don't recognize her."

"This is your bottle, honey, you loved it as a baby", Marisa giggled softly, shaking the bottle. "Whenever you didn't get the bottle, you screamed so very loudly that papa heard it upstairs in his study, but when you had your bottle you were satisfied and I, momma, had one less worry.”

“W… was … it … d… dif… diffi… difficult to … fe... feed me … too?”

“No, you've always been a good girl,” Marisa replied. She brought the bottle to her daughters mouth and gently inserted the baby bottle's teat into the mouth. Carefully, she gave a little pressure on the bottle with her hand and instinctively the child sucked on the teat, she began to swallow.

But quickly Marisa was forced to stop and to pull the bottle away, because her child was breathing heavily after the little sips she had taken.

"Shhhhhhh ... breathe calmly, honey," Marisa whispered, caressing her daughter’s face tenderly and lovingly to calm her. But it didn't work, the girl remained restless, so Marisa had to resort to tricks. "Ahhhhh … Look what I have here,” carefully, she picked up Lyra's cuddly toy and placed it close to her head. 

Lyra in turn smelled a familiar sweet smell. She could remember him. She laughed as she takes her favorite cuddly toy and presses it firmly against her heart. Then her breathing returned slowly back to normal and her mood changed too, which also had an effect on her mother. She calmed down too and moved the girl into a relaxed half lying position on her lap; the head rested on Marisa's chest while she supported Lyra’s upper body with her arm.

"Hush, my little mouse, we will take your bottle now once more. You just need to drink a little more.”

Marisa reaches out her hand and picks up the bottle, which she brought to Lyra’s mouth, next she inserted the teat of the baby bottle back into the mouth and Lyra automatically continued to drink, while she made little swallowing noises that made her mother giggle. 

Marisa thought now … giving my baby the bottle had never been so much fun! She really enjoyed every single minute of it, but quickly after the thought vanished the child in Marisa’s arms moved hastily. But that was no problem for Marisa anymore. She just knows exactly how to act now only by instinct and continued to encourage her daughter.

"Good girl, I'm so proud of you,” she said in a sweet voice, becoming more and more satisfied. At the same time Asriel watched them both from the kitchen with a frown. Marisa noticed this and tilted her head to the side. Smiling, she remarked, "she's too weak, I have to do it this way or she'll choke."

Asriel nods, he replies, "dinner in an hour, Marisa."

Marisa nods back and concentrated on Lyra once more. It took a while until Lyra had finished drinking, but in the end the bottle was empty and mama Marisa was satisfied. She could now bend forward, put the bottle down for good, and pull the child close, so that her head could rest on her shoulder.

Then she patted Lyra's back gently several times and the girl had to burp. Afterwards Marisa pulls the covers over herself and Lyra and rested for the time being.

* * *

* * *

When dinner was served, Lyra was already in her room, more precisely in her bed, which Thorold had prepared for her.

Lord Asriel sat next to Lyra on the bed and went over his notes, while Marisa sits on the other side the bed in an armchair. She puts a soft pillow behind Lyra's head, so she could sit comfortably then she begins to feed her.

In the meantime, Asriel reaches for Lyra's hand and squeezes it gently. Marisa notices this, she smiles and remembered that Asriel also had a gentle side (besides the stubborn and grumbly papa ear), which he rarely showed until now.

Lyra beside him barely manages to eat half of her food, but it was a beginning. Her parents are worried, and she can clearly see that in her reaction. When she ate, both kept trying to cheer her up so that she eats properly, but she just couldn't eat anymore.

“Everything is fine, my darling,” Marisa spoke lovingly, putting the cutlery on the bedside tablet. “Mommy is very proud of you." She adds as she kissed her daughter good night before she takes the tray and quietly disappeared from the room.

Lyra’s father switched on the small night lamp as the door was closed. Next, he pressed Lyra's upper body back onto the bed and made sure that her head was lying comfortably on her pillow. Then he reaches for the covers and spread them gently over Lyra’s little body before he smooths the covers out once more, making sure his daughter was tightly wrapped in.

Afterwards he looks down at his daughter as memories came back. He could remember taking care of her alone when she was just a small baby before Edward Coulter died and thus, he regretted what he had done in the past. But he couldn't change it, as much as he wanted to. The past was carved in stone.

“Sleep well, Lyra.”

Asriel kisses his daughter goodnight, then gives her the cuddly toy, which Lyra immediately hugged tightly. She closed her eyes and turns in a comfortable sleeping position. Pantalaimon crawled up to her head and curled up, then Asriel turns off the light and walks out of the room. Quietly, he closed the door and walks back into the small living room, where he takes a seat at the table beside Marisa, she herself had just begun to enjoy her meal.

Thorold was immediately on hand and hands Asriel his dinner before the old man sat down in the kitchen. Then there was silence for a while before Asriel spoke up.

"How long will you stay in Bolvangar?" Asriel asked his child's mother.

Marisa swallowed, she takes a sip of wine, "only tomorrow, I can leave whenever I want. We are making slow progress."

Asriel nods, he leaned back, "Good, Lyra must leave Svalbard as soon as possible!"

"That's right," Marisa admits, "I own a house about 20 km from Trollesund in a small town. There she would be safe and could recover. A doctor named Mary Malone can take care of her. She is one of the best doctors I know and a good friend."

"How far is it from here?" Asriel asked curiously.

"Approximately one six-hour drive with breaks, including a boat trip to Bornholm, where we can then travel to Askersund our destination." Marisa explained to him, "unfortunately we can't take my zeppelin, which would be too conspicuous."

"But isn't that dangerous" Thorold interrupted her. He was washing Lyra's dishes.

"It's our only chance Thorold," Asriel sighed, "it has to be. We have no choice!"

The old man nodded, and Lyra's parents ate their meals silently and thoughtfully. After Dinner both took a seat on the couch in the small living room of the laboratory, while it was still snowing slightly outside. They relaxed, knowing that the next days would be very exhausting. 

After two more romantic hours for two they went to sleep. This would be the first night together in years and not the last, while Lyra slept restlessly and the slowly strengthening virus weakened her further. Marisa and Asriel unnoticed loved each other passionately for the first time in a long time.


	3. Bolvangar or A Heart of Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, small adjustments

Everyone appreciates bright sunshine and blue skies, even in the far north of Svalbard. You might think you were in paradise, but the beauty of the north perfectly hid its inhuman cruelty. 

Life was hard, and only the strong had a chance to survive here. At any time, you could be in danger of accidentally, meeting a not very good-humored Panzerbjoern, which of course could be extremely uncomfortable for someone who met him.

Marisa Coulter herself didn't think about such things, she had other worries. She was currently sitting in the small living room of the laboratory. Of course, unlike Lord Asriel or her daughter, she wasn't a morning grouch. Her hair was perfect as always, just like the discrete make-up she had put on. 

She was just absorbed in her notes when Thorold, Lord Asriel's servant, steps into the living room and placed a tray of breakfast on the table.

"The breakfast madam,” said Thorold in a grim voice, he was obviously upset at having Mrs. Coulter in the house.

“Thank you,” Marisa replied with a soft voice, putting her notes in a folder before she takes a seat at the table, while Thorold turns around to go back to his beloved kitchen, but Marisa was not particularly happy with his behavior towards her, so she stopped him. "Thorold, I think you forgot something," she says a little upset, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

The old man gritted his teeth and made a face. He mumbled softly, "here we go again."

"What did you say?" Marisa asked in a bittersweet, cold voice.

"Nothing Madam," Thorold answered and looks away. So early in the morning he cursed the day and himself. Why did he get up so early?

Marisa had no idea of this, she answered, "I don't believe you." She gets up from her chair, strolling slowly over to Thorold as her daemon, who was following her, showed his white, sharp teeth. "As long as I am here," she makes clear to him with a commanding voice, "you will show me the same respect that you show to your master!”

Thorold suppressed the urge to hit her and bowed his head so as not to have to look at her. Of course, he didn't want to take orders from this woman, so he hesitated with his answer, but Marisa didn't want to accept that, "are we clear?" She asked maliciously.

Thorold nods in agreement, he replies, "yes, ma'am."

“I didn't expect anything else from a servant.” Marisa's mood changed, the golden monkey relaxed and she herself strolled back to the table, taking her place on the chair before she starts to eat. “That would be all Thorold,” She said with a bittersweet, mocking voice, “you can go back to the kitchen."

Yes, ma’am,” He retired to the kitchen without another word, he preferred not to mess with her any further. Marisa Coulter was tough and ice cold towards people. Very rarely did her cold heart melt and her gentle side appeared.

* * *

* * *

Marisa spends the next half an hour eating breakfast with pleasure. While she was eating, she gave her daemon a banana, which she had peeled for him. Oz then takes the banana with pleasure and began to eat it. It was really a cliché that monkeys liked to eat bananas, but he didn't care about it, because he just loved bananas so much.

When they had both enjoyed their breakfast it was time to prepare for today's tasks, but first Marisa walks to her daughter room, silently opens the door and peers into the dark room. Lyra was huddled under the covers and sweating profusely which of course forced Marisa to enter the room very quietly and going to Lyra's bed to wipe the sweat off her face with a towel. 

Then she lifted the girl out of bed and carried her to her own bedroom, where Asriel was still asleep.

As quietly as possible Marisa crept into the room with Lyra in her arms and takes a seat on the bed. Next, she carefully puts her daughter in bed and spread the covers over her. She noticed afterwards when she takes a closer look at Lyra that the girl looked so damn similar to her father. 

Long dirty blond hair that was curly like her mother's. She had also big brown, which that sometimes looked as threatening as her father's eyes, but besides Lyra was a little too small for her age with a low wight. However, the biggest difference Lyra had to her parents was her personality. She was of course smart like Marisa and stubborn like Asriel, but behind the facade was a shy, frightened, and broken child.

The loss of her parents and all the lies weighed heavily on her. The wounds were deep and in addition came her stuttering, which she was ashamed of it. She was also nervous all the time when she spoke to someone. Concluded: Lyra always carried the fear with her that no one would love her because of her speech error.

It can be exceedingly difficult for a child to endure that and Marisa knows that, she would have to be patient and understanding when she dealt with her in the future. Asriel had to learn that too, whether he wanted to or not.

Marisa was then torn from her thoughts when Asriel reaches out his long arm and pulls Lyra towards him. Lyra in return snuggles up against him so that father and daughter, lay satisfied in each other's arms moments later.

Marisa giggled softly at that sight, giving them both a kiss before she leaves the room and puts on her fur coat over her red sleeve-length dress and then set off with her snowmobile.

Her destination was Bolvangar, also known as the Fields of Evil by the witch clans of the north.

* * *

* * *

Bolvangar is a gobbler's facility, where many scientist including Marisa tried to separate children from the magic dust, which the Magisterium feared so much. It is said that adult people are changed by the magic dust. They are guilty of the original sin in the eyes of the Church, but children do not attract this magic dust and are free of sin.

By separating them from their daemons, the Church hopes to cure them from the future sin, but the procedure only brings suffering and death.

Marisa knows this only too well and remembers everything she has done so far when she was still sitting on her snowmobile and looking at the monstrous building while it's freezing cold and snowing around her on this clear morning here in Bolvangar.

Nonetheless, Marisa continues to advance, she drives her snowmobile to the designated place and takes with her what she would need today. Then she enters the facility through the large entrance. Immediately a shiver runs down her spine as she walks through the large, white corridors of the facility. 

Every step she takes deeper into her creation, her aversion to her own project grows. She can't take it anymore, she has enough of Bolvangar, but Marisa continues and walks past the large dining room, where a couple of children are currently sitting.

It is all too clear to Marisa that all children were separated from their parents in order to sacrifice their lives as volunteers without her consent. Everything happens on Marisa's own orders. She doesn't care if the children are the same age as her daughter or older. It is just important that their daemon has not yet taken on a persistent form just like the kids Marisa currently watches. 

She draws conclusions from the children's reactions that they are sad, they want to go back home but they will never see it again. Either they leave the station separated from their daemon or they leave the station in a body bag. Either way, for the time being, no child will leave Bolvangar alive.

“It’s all right,” Oz takes Marisa out of her thoughts. His hand slips into her delicate hand, he squeezes it gently. In his thoughts he makes her clear that she should block out the children. Marisa thanks him for his sympathy but lets him understand that it is difficult for her. 

She closes her eyes briefly and hears the children's desperate screams. They chase her in her dreams when she is here in Bolvangar. It worries her less than Lyra, but enough that Oz must comfort her.

"My little monkey, I love you so much."

Marisa takes her daemon in her arms and runs her hand through his soft, golden fur. She enjoys the great feeling, and the screams disappear. Then she puts him on her shoulders and walks on. At the moment she has only one thing in mind, her sick daughter Lyra.

After five more minutes Marisa reaches her office. On her desk there are already the finished reports from Dr. Cooper and his assistants about the progress that has been made.

Calmly, she takes off her coat and sat down at her desk. Next, she puts a glass on the table and pours some wine into it, while her daemon takes his usual seat next to her armchair. He curls up and tries to fell asleep.

Marisa herself takes the reports and starts to work, but for her enjoyment, it unusually does not take long to go through the reports and to write notes in a small pad. However, she continues to check her watch. She can't wait to go home, but before she can do that, she has other tasks to do.

First, Marisa writes a final report that does not describe the incompetence of Cooper and her employees at all. She sends the finished document to the cardinal in Geneva. Then she calls Dr. Cooper to her office.

He appears within a few minutes. He knocks on the door and without a word takes a seat on the small uncomfortable chair in front of Marisa's desk. Cooper is nervous, he keeps sliding back and forth on the chair while Marisa just stares at him. The expression on her face is relaxed but threatening. She waits a few moments, takes another sip from her glass, and then begins to speak.

"Dr. Cooper glad you could make it," she says kindly.

Cooper relaxes a little. He replies, "thank you for inviting me Mrs. Coulter, how can I help you."

"Roger Parslow"

Cooper leans back, he remembers the boy, "what about him, if I may ask?"

"The little piece of shit causes chaos among the children," replies Marisa. She leans forward and plays with her nails, "take Parslow without causing a stir. I want him to be separated from his daemon.”

"Consider it done," Cooper nods approvingly. He never doubts a direct order from her. To be honest, he's too scared of her and Marisa knows that too well. She likes to play out her authority, just like her mother, but Marisa is different from her, she thinks of Lyra again.

She knows that if the little girl finds out that her mother purposely moved Parslow out of the way, she'll be a little upset, but the child will have to get over it. Of course, her parents only want to protect her with this measure and if Lyra really argues with her about it, her father will punish her for it.

Lyra will then give in because she is too afraid of him when he gets angry.

Dr. Cooper goes out of Marisa Coulter's office and gets a nurse who will lead poor Roger to the separation machine.

Without a word of protest, Roger follows the nurse. It will be promised to him that he will soon see his parents again. Marisa herself walks at a distance with them, her daemon preceding her. She knows Roger personally and he knows her. All the children know Mrs. Coulter just like Roger.

"Mrs. Coulter, where is Lyra? Is she okay?" Roger keeps asking her on her way to the lab where the separation takes place, but Marisa doesn't answer, she doesn't want to hear him.

Finally, they reach the lab.

Roger enters the laboratory first, he sees the big scary machine, a guillotine that falls through the crack of two small steel cages. Roger gets a syringe unnoticed and collapses. Laboratory workers carry him into the machine along with his daemon Salcillia. Both are individually placed in the cages, then the machine is switched on and everyone leaves the room. Marisa herself watches everything safely through a large window as the blade reaches its maximum height.

Cooper gives the signal and the blade falls. Contemporaneous Marisa closes her eyes. The blade cuts through the magical bond between man and daemon with a loud bang. Marisa flinches, her nails are boring into her flesh. After a few moments, she realizes that it's done and curses Bolvangar forever.

Oz senses her grief and takes her hand. Marisa squeezes it gently and sheds a tear. Does she feel guilty? Of course not. She had to do it to protect her daughter. Then she enters the lab once more, she gets closer and sees that poor Parslow is dead. The experiment has failed. She goes to Cooper and tells him the result. Then she orders everything to be documented and suspends the experiments for eight weeks.

The machine is a pure disappointment.

But Cooper protests but has to admit defeat after a heated discussion. He enters the lab himself and wonders what went wrong. He looks to the door after a few moments, where he sees Mrs. Coulter disappear.

She goes back to her office, where she calls Cooper to her once more, including his assistants. She tells them that she is leaving Bolvangar and hands over the reins to her deputy. Afterwards Marisa sends everyone out and informs Father Hugh MacPhail of her decision to take a leave of absence.

She justifies her decision with private reasons. She speaks the truth and MacPhail is aware of this, he knows only too well what value Mrs. Coulter has for the Magisterium, but then Marisa lies in his face … she's pretending to go back to London.

At the end of the conversation, she says goodbye to him, he won't hear from her for a while and hangs up the phone. Then Marisa falls into her armchair knowing that she is playing a dangerous game. Every step has to be carefully considered. She also plays with the thought of calling her mother Stella or her father John, who could help her.

Ozymandias however advises against it. Her mother would do anything to get her hands-on Lyra. Already in the past she had always secretly visited her granddaughter behind Asriel's back. For Lyra she was a friend of her "uncle" who was assigned to watch over her. She is ruthless like Asriel and as seductive as Marisa herself.

Lady Stella Delamare's young appearance with long, blond, and curly hair together with her brilliant grey-blue eyes concealed a bad character. At forty-five years of age, she was in no way inferior to her daughter … she was superior to her. And that scared Marisa, she decided not to call her.

Now before she's turning her back on Bolvangar, she sends her zeppelin back to London, takes her coat and leaves the station, going back and turning on the engine of her snowmobile but she was not yet ready to leave.

She was still sitting on her snowmobile as she sees the zeppelin taking off without feeling any regrets. Then she was ready. She pulls on her ski goggles and raced away with her snowmobile for good.

* * *

* * *

It was shortly before two o'clock when Marisa arrived in small Stockholm, a small town near Bolvangar. She had now two hours to do some more shopping.

At the top of her list were new clothes for Lyra. To buy them, she went to the best clothing store in town. This store really had it all, no matter if you are a little girl or a big girl, there was something for everyone

Marisa bought underwear for her daughter, some jackets, hats, gloves, tights, and many other things that Lyra would need, but before she finally paid, she saw a small rarity, a special massage set with hot stones. She put it in her basket too and went to the checkout.

Next, she neatly packed everything in her two large carrier bags and then looked at her watch again; she still had enough time to relax.

* * *

* * *

When Marisa reaches Lord Asriel's laboratory in the mountains, it was already dark.

She got off her snowmobile and was about to enter the laboratory when she heard a loud barking. Running up came a big Siberian husky lady. Her fur was beautiful partly white and partly black. Her big blue eyes looked deep into Marisa's cold blue eyes, before she came closer and bowed her head to show that she wouldn't hurt anyone. 

Ozymandias approached her slowly and exchanged some first words with her before he looks back at Marisa. In his mind he told her that the husky lady was not a daemon, she had lost her master and followed her in search of a new home. She is young and an outstanding sled dog, she could be useful if she got a roof over her head and was treated properly. She is one of the few huskies who understood humans and their daemons perfectly.

"How wonderful!"

Marisa was amazed. She considered briefly and decided to take her in. She was only two years old and was a perfect playmate for Lyra. So, Marisa picked up her two bags again, Oz opened the door and all three entered the cuddly warm laboratory, however, it was so quiet in the laboratory, not a single sound could be heard. 

Lord Asriel himself sat quietly in his study at his desk. In front of him was a half-filled glass of the best scotch, which accompanied him as he was making notes about experiments, he had been doing all day. Besides this, Asriel kept an eye on his sick daughter, who was lying on a small camp bed that he had set up for her.

Her health deteriorated by the hour, over the next few days the virus would peak and then subside very slowly if Lyra did not receive medical attention. That worries Lyra's father clearly all day as well when his lover comes into the study, but with every click of the heels of Marisa’s brown boots it subsided a bit until the feeling vanished as she takes a seat in the chair in front of Asriel's desk.

“Hello, Darling,” She said, crossing her legs and turning her gaze to her daughter. "Has she eaten anything?" She asked concerned.

"Just a soup and a piece of bread with some vegetables," Asriel admitted in a thoughtful voice, sipping on his glass of scotch.

Marisa nods in return. She rises from her chair, going to Lyra's little sickbed, where she picked the girl up, which in return caused the girl to moan for a moment, but to Marisa’s pleasure her daughter calmed down. She falls silent too as soon as the sweet smell from her mother came over her.

“My baby,” Marisa smirks, she begins to rock and also to caressed Lyra's back with one hand as well as she gives Lyra a few kisses on her hot forehead.

Asriel watches it with a big smile, it made him visible happy to see Marisa and Lyra together as mother and daughter. This also affected his mood, which was more relaxed now as he got up from his chair and carefully takes a seat next to his lover. He tilted his head slightly downwards and breathed in the smell of his daughter's hair before he kissed her. 

"Lyra had to throw up today,” he said in a whisper, “otherwise she was only awake when I fed her."

Marisa nods silently. She lowers her head and pulls a face. Worry spread suddenly through her body as she takes one of Lyra's little hands and played with them, but soon a little smile showed up.

"I bought clothes for her," Marisa replies happily, "The first thing I'll do is wash our daughter and then dress her up in fresh clothes."

"Sounds good darling," Asriel kissed her lovingly, "How was your day?"

"Wonderful," she said and played a little nervously with her perfect nails.

Asriel took her hand, he chuckled, "Marisa, I can tell by your tone that something is bothering you. Tell me, honey."

"I had to do something today that Lyra must never know ... Little Parslow unfortunately had to leave us," Marisa said somewhat depressed.

But soon to her displeasure, Lyra herself slowly moved on her mother's lap as she opened her eyes. "R.... Ro... Roger, " she said with sleepy voice.

Her mama froze briefly, she caught herself and gently let one of her delicate hands slide over Lyra's face. “Hush, my little Lyra, you mistaken," she said in a soothing, soft, sweet voice. "I didn't say anything about your Roger, please try to sleep again, mama will wash and then dress you freshly."

Lyra moaned in response, she obeyed her mother. Her head nestled back against Marisa's soft maternal breast and a few minutes later she was back in the land of dreams.

"That was close, Marisa," Asriel and Marisa sighed together. "I'm glad she didn't argue with us.”

"I agree with you," Marisa replied, "I have sent my zeppelin away and I am officially taking a leave of absence from Bolvangar.”

Asriel was shocked, "how did you convince MacPhail to approve to this?"

"I don't know, something is not right. Hugh was very calm when I spoke with him."

"What do you think Marisa, the cardinal perhaps?" Asked Asriel curiously.

"No, I can say with one hundred percent certainty that this was the work of my mother and my father," answered Marisa in a gloomy voice. "I heard the soft click of heels and a soft purr which only my mother's daemon can do.”

Marisa puts Lyra back on the bed. Stelmaria and Ozymandias both snuggled up to Lyra, who then let a small, satisfied moan escape. Both parents giggled softly, but their mood darkened again.

"What does your mother want?” Asriel asked thoughtfully, “why does she help us?”

"I do not know, her intentions are never clear. One thing is certain, she wants Lyra at all costs. She's been working on it six long years."

"Yes, I know, she won't let go until she has what she wants," Asriel growled angrily. "Is there anything else I need to know before we leave tomorrow?"

"Yeah … wait a minute," Marisa walked out of the room, blowing a low whistle and the newest member of the family came running with big steps. The husky lady, who was still nameless, entered the room and first introduced herself to Asriel. She jumped gently onto the camp bed without touching Lyra and made herself comfortable.

“Where did you pick up this lady here?" Asriel asked with a chuckle, touching the fur of the husky.

"She was chasing me," Marisa admitted. "She can understand people and is a good leader of a team for a sledge, she will stay with us."

Asriel turned to his daemon, "Stel, ask her if she understood what I just said."

Stelmaria concentrated, she silently exchanged a few words with her. Then she was sure that the husky was telling the truth. 

"Marisa tells the truth Asriel, she understood what you said and repeated it clearly word by word."

“What?!” Asriel turned pale, he just couldn't get it into his head, but he found it interesting. He distracted with a joke, "Marisa, are you sure Lyra didn't wave her magic stick?"

She laughed, "No, certainly not honey."

It was good to laugh a little. They urgently needed a little cheering up, it would be very stressful tomorrow when they went to Askersund.

* * *

Jordan College, Oxford / a little earlier that day

* * *

A man was standing in Lyra's old room. His brown hair sparkled in the light as his dark eyes, which sometimes looked bluish, but they fired with rage as he searched the small room thoroughly for clues to the whereabouts of little Lyra.

"Where is she, Athena? ... I don't understand this, she was here a week ago!"

His daemon, Athena, a majestically beautiful lioness spoke to him, "It was Belacqua! He must have taken her up to the north."

"That damn bastard," he replied, furious. The Lioness roared loudly, and his anger increased immeasurably. "He dares to kidnap my granddaughter!"

His daemon roared once more but then he heard someone calling his name. A woman's voice, "John?!"

Lyra's grandfather turns around looks at the door where she is standing. More specifically, his wife, Lyra's grandmother. Lady Stella sobs heavily, "John, I .... I ... I cannot find her." She says and bursts into tears, she holds her hands in front of her face.

"Stella ….," John comes closer. "Stella, please keep calm. Come here to me first."

His wife answers the call. Stella runs as fast as she can into his open arms and hugs him lovingly. She closed her eyes, howling out of her pain. Her embrace tightened as John rocked her gently.

She complained desperately, "I searched everywhere .... I ... I .. I couldn't find our cute little Lyra. Where .... where is she?"

"In the north, this son of a bitch, Belacqua has our little Lyra."

John brings his hand to her face. He gently lifts her face and kisses his wife on the mouth. Time stands still for a moment as he looks with a smile into her grayish blue eyes.

"Don't be scared, my darling," he soothed her in a whisper. "We travel to the north, we will find and bring our granddaughter home. Belacqua will pay for taking your little Lyra away from you, I promise!”


	4. The Journey - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, small adjustments

Lord Asriel was never an early riser because he loved it to sleep late in the morning too much for that, but today he was already awake at six o'clock in the morning. The fact that the day would be very long bothered him and keeps him awake. In addition, there was Lyra's illness which weighed heavily on him. Therefore, no matter how much he rolled on the bed to find a proper sleeping position beside the still soundly sleeping Marisa, he just couldn't go back to sleep.

In contrast to his master, Thorold was different. He was in fact an early riser and had already taken the small gyrocopter to organize the boat trip from Svalbard to Lapland. Both Master and Servant knew only too well that the master himself, Asriel, could never travel so easily in these days. He always had to be on guard because the Magisterium would only be too very happy to get his hands on him. What didn't make things easier was that he had his lover Marisa and his sick daughter Lyra in tow during the long journey. 

All these things went through his mind and for the first time in his long life the great Lord Asriel Belacqua did not know how to move on.

What would he do if something went wrong? He could be arrested, imprisoned, and separated from his daughter, Lyra, forever. Another possibility would be that Marisa herself would betray him at some point, but Asriel knew that Marisa would never dare. Lyra had softened her too much for that … concluded: Asriel could only hope that everything would go smoothly without lies and betrayal.

Since these thoughts robbed him of sleep, he got up quietly, without waking Marisa. Then he dressed himself, leaves room with quick steps, and marched straight into the kitchen.

Arrived there, Asriel begins to prepare the breakfast. 

First, he puts three plates on the table, adds two sets of cutleries to it, before he walks to the cupboard and takes out the bread, two cups, and other things, which he places on the table too. Next, he walks once more into the kitchen, where he starts to make coffee, but suddenly Stelmaria ejected a slight giggle.

"What's wrong?” Asriel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Haven't you ever seen me prepare breakfast?" 

"Yes,” Stelmaria admitted slightly mockingly, “but in any case, Asriel, it has been a long time ago since you had prepared breakfast!” 

But then suddenly both were surprised as a familiar click of heels softly sounded. “You make breakfast, Asriel?" Marisa asked, still tired, and standing in the doorway, wearing her white satin robe.

"Isn't it obvious," Asriel replied, pointing to the running coffee machine and the table that was already set. 

Marisa in return shakes her head approvingly. She crosses her arms and curiously watches Asriel, who was still standing beside the running coffee machine.

"Do you like what you see?" Asked Asriel.

"Of course," Marisa replied, smirking. 

With slow steps and in style, Marisa now walks up to him. Her Heels are clicking and with every movement, Marisa does, Asriel’s desire to open the satin robe of his lover increases until it reaches his highest point as Marisa wraps her arms around his body and kisses him lovingly, but unfortunately the coffee was ready and Asriel has to hold himself back, for now.

"Breakfast is ready,” Asriel whispers, breaking away. “Please take a seat at the table, darling!" 

Marisa nods, but as soon as she had turned around Asriel gives her a slap on her bum with the palm of his hand. The bang was so loud that it could be heard throughout the lab along with the childish giggling of Marisa. 

"I didn't allow you to do that,” she said aroused. 

“Honey,” Asriel smirked, “I earned your permission last night!” 

Marisa smirked, she takes a seat at the table, “darling, I'll give you my permission now to get my coffee!” She said charming.

“You little beast,” Asriel chuckled. Skillfully he grabs then the coffee pot, walks to the table and take a seat across from Marisa. "I noticed that this morning, around two, you got up once," Asriel noted, pouring the coffee. 

“Our daughter had called for me," Marisa replied softly, grabbing a piece of bread. "She had to vomit again."

“Violently?”

“Yes, she was completely out of breath,” Marisa said and gave Asriel the morning paper.

“There is a saying that the first night is always the worst.”

“Let’s hope, you’re right, my darling.”

Without exchanging another word, Asriel & Marisa continued to eat, both of them needed some rest in the morning to relax a little more. All you could hear was the cutting of the knife, the drinking of fresh coffee, and the swallowing noises. 

So, the minutes passed, before Marisa spoke, "I'll get Lyra out of bed, she has to eat something.” 

Asriel gave an approving hum, he didn't look up from his newspaper, while Marisa disappeared shortly afterwards. She reappeared a few minutes later with Lyra on her arm whose dirty blond hair was completely disheveled. Her face was reddish, a little wet with sweat just like the pajamas she wore … concluded: she had a rough night as Asriel noticed.

But still, he did not look up from his newspaper. His daemon, Stelmaria did this part for him. She also pushed Lyra's chair back so that Marisa only had to place her child on the chair. Then she sat down at the table again and begins to prepare a sandwich for Lyra.

"Lyra,” Asriel said, looking up from his paper. “The three of us are going on a little trip, back to Askersund near Trollesund."

"You'll get help there, darling, mommy knows a doctor there who will help you,” Marisa continued, putting the breakfast plate in front of her daughter. “Infuriately it will be particularly exhausting for you, but I and your father know that you can do it.” 

"I know mama," 

Lyra burst into tears, scared of her illness. She lay awake all night long and couldn't sleep. Marisa knows that, immediately she was there to pull her daughter into a lovingly hug, caressing the soft back and whispering soothing words in Lyra’s ear.

"Don't cry, my darling. Everything will be all right." Marisa said, shifting Lyra on her lap. 

Ozymandias hands her moments later a fork and she could begin to feed her daughter as she carefully skewered a small piece of the sandwich and put it in Lyra's mouth. Then Lyra begins to chew, sadly looking up at her mother too.

"Keep chewing,” Marisa cheered smirking, “be a good girl. You know, your mama's favorite.”

Lyra nods in agreement, close to tears. She swallowed first before she clings to her mother. She gently rubs her head against the soft material of the robe, desperately searching consolation from her mother, who was only too happy to do so. Her grip around Lyra’s body just tightened and Lyra herself nestled closer as Marisa lowers her head and kissed Lyra first on the forehead, next on the flushed cheeks and the nose and afterwards Lyra got a loving kiss on the mouth.

In the end, Lyra had red lipstick all over her face. She giggled for the first time in front of her parents. The sadness was gone, and Marisa reaches for her fork again, continuing to feed Lyra calmly and relaxed.

* * *

* * *

At the same time Lyra's grandparents, John & Stella Delamare, were standing at London Airport, ready to travel north to find their granddaughter and to get her home safely. 

On their way both were ready for anything, nothing could stop them, neither the cold ice nor any other disturbing obstacle. 

But already while they were walking to the zeppelin, the first difficulties arose in form of the weather. It was bitterly cold, and it was raining heavily, which didn't improve their bad mood.

"Where do we begin our search?" asked Stella worried, she had put one arm around her husband.

"Svalbard, we'll start with Belacqua's laboratory, but now we should hurry it is getting uncomfortable."

As fast as they could they ran to the airship where the captain was already waiting. He greeted then both politely and led them to their private area while the doors were closed. A few minutes later the airship took off.

* * *

* * *

The ice deserts of Svalbard were breathtakingly beautiful. Ice and snow as far as you could see, high mountains, which were perfect for skiing and A large population of wild animals and wonderful weather. But today it was different. A light snowfall had started, and a strong wind blew through the land.

In these lonely climes, the sleigh of Lord Asriel, Marisa Coulter and her daughter chased through incessantly and without any great effort. The sledge himself was of the best quality, had enough space for luggage and a big tent in store, which could be erected quickly in case of emergency.

Lord Asriel steered the sled with ease because he was an experienced sledge driver. On his many journeys into the north, he had learned from the best. He didn't mind the biting cold, he even enjoyed it. And sometimes Asriel went so far to say that the north was his true home. He had spent almost half his life here, experiments and expeditions had determined his daily activities all his life here in Svalbard.

His daemon, Stelmaria, thought the same thing. She lay relaxed at his feet and tried to give the freezing Oz a bit of warmth by snuggling tightly together. From where they were lying, the two daemons also saw the other two passengers. As described, these were Lyra and her mother.

Both were wrapped in blankets and huddled close together to protect themselves from the cold as well as the wind, which bothered both too, which is why Marisa literally hid her daughter under the blankets. She also felt that her daughter was tired after four hours of exhausting sleigh ride. So, she began to gently rock her daughter into a deep sleep.

To do this, she slowly moved her body left and right again, humming her lullaby for Lyra. It worked when Pantalaimon nestled closer to the girl’s neck and she herself lowered her head to her mother’s chest, her eyes closed. Marisa herself continued to hum until Lyra stopped moving and only her breath could be heard. 

"I think we are making good progress Asriel," Marisa said in a whisper, she turned her head and looked at Asriel curiously.

"It's all going well Darling," replied Asriel slightly self-satisfied.

Despite the cold, he took off one of his thick gloves and brushed a loose strand of hair from Marisa's blushing face. His hand then moved over her cheek, where it stayed and met with Marisa's gloved hand. In balance, she pressed Asriel's hand against her icy cold cheek as she closed her eyes and forgot everything, until a moan, from the restless sleeping Lyra, brought her back to the present.

"We have to take a break soon," Marisa said decisively, "Lyra has to eat something and what she needs most is some rest.”

"All right," Asriel replied approvingly, "we'll stop and pitch the tent. Then we make a fire and rest for two hours, it is not far anymore to Bolungarvík harbor."

* * *

* * *

At the same time, high above the clouds in the Warm Airship, Lyra's grandmother couldn't wait to finally land in Svalbard. She was so nervous and so tense that it was easily noticeable as she kept turning on the couch as she tried to sleep.

Her husband sat across from her in his chair, seeming relaxed, but he was tense inside like his wife, some reports, however, from his company lay still on his lap, which he worked through to distract himself, but his wife's tense nerves were not hidden from him.

"We'll find her and bring her home," John said calmly and took a sip of tokay. "Don't worry, my love."

Stella grunted in response. She turns around on the couch and grabs her blanket, which she pulls over her body. Her daemon jumped up to her and snuggled up against her chest. His warm black fur, which was very comfortable to the touch, gave her some rest and she became more relaxed.

"Fox, promise me everything will be fine in the end," says Stella and snuggles closer under her blanket.

"I promise my darling," John replied, adjusting his reading glasses. "We're almost there, get some rest."

* * *

* * *

About four hours later, Lyra and her parents reached Bolungarvík without much further disturbance. Asriel himself stopped then the sled about 300 yards from town. Afterwards, he and Marisa took a closer look at the city.

They noticed that the town was prosperous, trade had made them rich. The streets were well built, and the houses, in which the people were living, were built of better quality. The people themselves were real citizens, as the Magisterium imagined, educated and ready to work. The city also seemed a little sleepy so Asriel got off the sled without feeling any danger and went to the local sled depot.

What he did first when he entered the little house was that he got information about the city. In order to obtain this, he asked the manager of the depot in detail. He memorized or wrote down everything that was important. Besides, what worried him most was that he did not know this city. The depot manager noticed this and asked questions about his behavior, but Asriel didn't care about that.

He just broke away from the manager and preferred to look for an employee. After a few minutes he found a young employee whom he paid to take the sled safely to his laboratory. Then he checked the situation once more and finally gave Marisa a sign to get out of the sled.

She herself waves back and climbs out of the sled. Next, she loads the two backpacks and the two small suitcases from the sled, while her daughter was still in the sled. She had just woken up and was still a little tired. Her legs hurt, she felt sick all the time, had a sore throat and a high fever. It was not a good day for her to travel although the snowfall had subsided, the sun was shining, and it was not so cold anymore.

With a scratchy, irritated voice, Lyra said to her mother, "M…. mo... momma, c... can I get s.... so... some... something to dr... drink?"

"Wait a moment my love," replied Marisa with a gasp, she takes a deep breath and continues. "You will get your bottle right away."

She reaches into her backpack, skillfully took out Lyra's baby bottle and carefully climbs back into the sled. Then she lifts her child onto her lap and carefully inserted the bottle's teat into Lyra's mouth.

“Slowly, take your time,” Marisa nots.

And with a hum, Lyra begins to swallow the hot, warm tea and Marisa herself had now some time to look around. Like Asriel, she had never been here before and she didn't like that either so both should be on guard. There could be danger in every corner like the Magisterium agents, who were scattered around the world, trying to find and spy on special people like Asriel.

Marisa knows that only too well and made this clear to Asriel, who was slowly strolling back to the sled after a few minutes together with Hera, the husky lady. The husky lady herself was very happy with the name Lyra had chosen a few hours ago, while she was cuddling with her father in the tent.

Asriel loved the name too as well as Lyra who liked it, when Hera tried to lick her face with her warm tongue, which made her giggle mostly. It was just a bit of fun for her, while her parents were a bit more relaxed at the time, especially her mother. But now both parents were in a different mood, Lyra noticed this, when her father lifted her out of the sled. 

His eyes sparkled in these moments, but his expression was different as he hugged her tightly and asked her how she was doing at the moment.

Lyra honestly replied to her father that she wasn't feeling well, when she back on her own feed.

Lord Asriel nods in return knowingly. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks to Marisa. 

Lyra herself used this time to stretch first. She tried to get the tiredness out of her limbs as her parents grabbed her backpacks together with one of the two suitcases.

Then the employee came rushing over to take the sledge. He briefly exchanged a few words with Marisa and Asriel before he disappeared with sled, observed too by Lyra, who did not notice that her parents had turned to her.

"Lyra, come here, we have to go,” both said at the same time, each taking one of Lyra’s little hands. Then they marched off towards the city. But as fast as both parents wanted to get ahead, Lyra's health thwarted her calculations. They had to walk slowly with Lyra, each step was a feat of strength for her.

After a few minutes they had to stop, Lyra couldn't go any further. She moaned, she gasped and urgently needed some rest. To give her this, Marisa picked her up and carried her to a bench, where she unbuckled her backpack and took Lyra's bottle out, which she carefully handed to her.

"You find Thorold!” Lyra’s mother spoke at the same time to her father, “Lyra and I will wait here."

"Don't do anything stupid," Asriel replied, unbuckling his backpack. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Please hurry," Marisa spoke worried. She pulls him in into a hug and the only Asriel had to do now was to kiss Marisa lovingly and the time … she seemed to stand still for a few moments before Asriel broke away again and disappeared into the crowd.

Marisa looks longingly after him before she takes a seat on the bench. She leaned back with her daughter and enjoyed the sun. Now she could also take off her brown leather gloves together with her fur hat, which she liked very much.

Moments later it became quieter around both of them, only the songs of the birds could be heard.

Mother and daughter listened to this with pricked ears, especially Lyra. She had done the same thing at Jordan College. Lord Asriel had accompanied her on this activity several times when she was little. Marisa could never do that, but for the first time she herself could experience Lyra very differently.

"When I was a little girl, I loved being outside," told Marisa her daughter after several minutes. "I'm like my sister, your aunty Margaret, you know, but do you like being outside too?"

Lyra just nods wordless. She never talked a lot and didn't have the need at the moment. She just preferred to lean against her mother, while she was busy eating a cookie.

"My little darling," said Marisa with a sigh, feeling that Lyra was depressed so she assumed: “You don't like to speak because of your stuttering, hm. You're afraid that someone will mock you."

"T.... th... that's r.... ri... right ma... mama," Lyra said fearfully, bowing her head. "I'm ter…terrified of it!"

"Why are you scared of it, darling? Marisa asked.

"T.... th... they to... tou... torture me for be... being d.... dif... different, they s... s... say that I.... I... I am a d.... disa... disabled p....per... person.” 

“W... W… What?!" 

Lyra's mother was stunned, more precisely, Marisa was speechless and horrified. She had no idea what was being done to her daughter. For her it was like being struck by the most violent lightning strike there was. Besides, she also wondered how she could have allowed it all these years, but it was of now use now.

All that was left was that she could curse herself for not being there to protect her daughter from it. In Addition, at that time, there was no little baby for her what she called her daughter, but now her daughter was there, and Marisa felt the need that all mothers felt, to comfort her child. So, she lifted her crying daughter onto her lap, puts both arms around her while her chin rested on Lyra's head as she hummed a soft tune.

Then slowly, Marisa begins to rock the girl while she continued to think. She realized that inside her body she was boiling with rage. The staff of the college and the tormentors of Lyra would face an act of revenge because Marisa had power, her family had even more power. Concluded: the punishment was going to be so ugly that they would never dare to crawl out of their shit hole ever again, but that had to wait first because Lyra burst into tears once more.

"My sweet little baby you don't need to cry," Marisa said in a whisper as she intensified her movements. Her rocking softened as she tried to comfort her daughter. "Lyra, you must understand that sometimes people can be cruel. You don't have to be ashamed of being different."

I ... I ca... can't ev... even get a s.... s... sen... sentence o... out of m... my m… mou… mouth wi…with…without my s... stu... stut... stuttering.”

"That's not true, honey," Marisa pressed Lyra against her chest. She lowered her head and kissed Lyra, "mama will help you to speak properly again."

“Do you promise it?” Lyra asked meekly.

"With everything I have, my darling," Marisa replied, picking up a new cookie and putting it in Lyra's mouth as she spoke once more, "I promise to you once more that you won't have to worry about your stuttering anymore because together, we can bring it under control. I know some techniques that can make speaking easier for you."

"T…. th... that s... s... sou... sounds v... v... very nice m... m... mama!”

“That’s the way it is intended," replied Marisa resolutely. "You should always know that you are the product of something extraordinary."

"Something extraordinary?" Lyra asked a little confused.

"Of course, you are a special child," Marisa answered her question. "You are gifted with the best qualities of me and your father, which is what makes you so extraordinary, my little baby. Mama loves you the way you are with everything she has."

Lyra looked at her mother, her eyes met. With her thumb, Marisa wiped a tear from her daughter's face and gave her a fragrant kiss on the mouth.

"I love you too, Mommy," spoke Lyra quietly and without stuttering.

* * *

Half an hour later Asriel returned with Thorold in tow.

"The ship is ready, it leaves tonight," he explained softly to Marisa, because Lyra had almost fell asleep again.

"Let's not wait any longer," replied Marisa and got up from the bench. "Let's go to the ship."

Thorold picks up both suitcases, while Asriel buckled his backpack. Marisa tightened the straps, then Asriel took his daughter in her arms. It was clearly easier to carry her to give her more rest, even Marisa thought so as she buckled on her backpack. 

Then she puts on her fur hat and leather gloves again, afterwards they marched to the ship as Thorold's daemon, a pinscher named Anfang went ahead together with Ozymandias who was enthroned on Stelmaria. All three were very vigilant, especially Oz, who took a closer look at the changing surroundings. He also had Lyra's daemon Pantalaimon firmly in his arms. He held him protectively because Marisa had told him to do so. 

She herself walked next to Asriel, holdings hands with him for the first time as they showed themselves to be a couple for the first time. Besides together they all looked like a high society family in transit. As closer they got to the ship, the clearer it became to them. Asriel didn't really want to get used to it, but Marisa had accepted it, so he was almost forced to do it too.

They continued the march and a few minutes later they had reached the ship.

The ship itself was one of the Magisterium's, the best food and privacy were guaranteed. It was a safe travel option alongside the airship option. What made this travel option even safer was that Lyra's parents knew the captain personally. He had accompanied them both once on a trip and had even accompanied Asriel several times when Lyra was a baby.

When they entered the boat, he was immediately there to see his old friends.

"Marisa .... Asriel, nice to see you both again", he greeted them both warmly and hugged Marisa, who made a disgusted face. Then the captain wanted to hug Asriel, but he saw that Asriel had someone with him.

"Who do we have here, Asriel?" He said softly.

"My still sleeping six-year-old daughter Lyra, Bjorn." Asriel replied and held Lyra tighter who had both arms wrapped around his neck, while her head rested on his shoulder.

Bjorn laughed softly at this sight, "You old fox, I knew that you couldn't help being together with Marisa."

"Stop it, Bjorn!" Asriel replied, annoyed by his statement.

"Come on Asriel, admit it," said Bjorn and patted him on the free shoulder. "You two were always meant to be together.”

"Yes, we are meant to be together but at least we are not admitting it in front of you," said Marisa coldly. "I will now take care of my daughter, so if you'll excuse me." She takes Lyra from Asriel and went towards the cabins. Both men could only look at her somewhat in love.

"This woman,” Björn sighed, “have I done something wrong?"

"She is in stress! Lyra is sick and we have to go to London, besides, she is a little tired I think, so leave her alone." Asriel remarked with a somewhat thoughtful tone.

Surely, he knows that Marisa searched the distance, because she didn't want to get too involved in the conversation. Besides, she didn't like Bjorn very much, but despite Marisa's departure, both were in a good mood, so Björn changed his plans.

"Let's talk a little more. We haven't seen each other in so long."

"Well then come with me you old drunkard," answered Asriel with a chuckle. Both walked a bit around the ship, talking until both reached the small observation deck of the ship after half an hour.

"What are you doing at the moment Asriel?" Bjorn asked curiously, leaning against the railing.

"Right now, I'm on a research trip ...... nonsense … I was on one," Asriel replied.

Björn smirked, knowing there must be more to it than his friend was telling him. Asriel would never break off a trip so easily so he kept piercing him with questions until Asriel had enough.

"Bjorn please leave it,” He said as Stelmaria hissed with rage. “I am not in the mood.”

"Old boy, I just wanted to be nice. You always told me about your travels in great detail."

"But not Today, old boy. Your job is to get us to Lapland .... more specifically to Bornholm. That's all you need to know."

Asriel tapped him on the shoulder and left. He headed for his cabin. He too was tired and exhausted, he didn't feel like getting sentimental again.

* * *

* * *

When Asriel entered the cabin, Marisa was sitting on the small couch. She had a warm meal and a glass of red wine in front of her. Lyra was curled up next to her. Her daemon pressed against her as a little black house cat, while she played with her cuddly toy.

"You have something to eat," Asriel noted happily as he strolled relaxed to the couch, where he takes first a seat next to Marisa, but soon with the greatest pleasure he steals the plate and fork of Marisa.

"This is my dinner. Get your own Asriel," She spoke with her mouth full, pulling her plate and cutlery away from Asriel before she slid to the end of the couch, where she greedily ate the delicious salmon.

"That is practically frustration eating!” Asriel sighted.

That phrase made Lyra giggle, she wriggled wildly back and forth. She couldn't stop laughing just like Asriel, who was very amused by Marisa's facial expression, which from second to second twisted into an angrily grimace, therefore, Asriel quickly searched the distance. 

"Come Lyra, we'll get something to eat." Asriel stood up, taking Lyra in his arms. "Mama don't like to share with us."

Both began to leave the room, Marisa herself boiled with rage as she yelled to both, "come back immediately ... Lyra please …. papa is lying. Mommy loves to share with both of you."

But her screams were of no use, Asriel & Lyra quickly disappeared. They feared that Marisa would follow them, so they walk into the caboose as quickly as possible where they get two plates of the best food, then they returned to the still pouting Marisa.

"Lyra, go to the table, please." Asriel ordered and his daughter obeyed. She walked slowly to the table, carefully placed her plate on the table just like her father who then lifted her onto her chair. Then Asriel takes a seat at the table himself and with the greatest pleasure, he begins to feed Lyra. 

They both giggled and laughed with a wide smile. Asriel secretly enjoyed taking care of Lyra, he had observed Marisa several times. He saw and liked how lovingly she treated Lyra. Had he gone soft since Lyra came to him with her mother? He did not know, but the feeling was not foreign to him.

Marisa had accepted the challenge to raise Lyra, but was he willing to be a father for Lyra that she deserved? Again, he had no answer to this question but in time he would grow into the role, he was sure. Lyra was his everything, even if he could never really show it.


	5. Stella Delamare In: My Aggression Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, Addes some new dialogue, improving readability

On the same day, around the same time, when it was already dark in the world, John and Stella Delamare arrived at Lord Asriel's laboratory in an off-road vehicle accompanied by John's task force, which was doing his dirty work for him.

All members were former Special Forces soldiers from Germany, England, Russia, and New Denmark. All members were trained to be extremely silent as well as deadly, just like their dogs daemons. Nobody wanted to stand in their way, because each member was ready to capture a bullet for their partner. 

The solidarity they had with each other not only gave them security but also strength … strength, which gave all members something special, because through this they were ready for anything and ready to find the youngest Delamare family member, Lyra. 

When all Members got out of their cars the tension, which could be felt in the air, continued to build. It affected everyone including the dog daemons, who jumped out of the cars and saw how their human halves took their assault rifles, an HK 416, out of the trunk and made the weapons ready for action. 

“Time for some fun, gentleman!”

With a nod, it all started, all members marched to the laboratory, led by two really pissed off grandparents, who are boiling with rage. Their faces were cold, numb, and the commandos they uttered were short and clear to the team. They followed them to the entrance, then the area became almost silent as all members took position at the entrance to the laboratory.

Now, a small explosive charge was placed on the door, and John gave, moments later, when all were in a safe distance, a soft signal. 

A loud bang sounded, the door burst open and the squad members, who were slightly covered with snow, stormed the building, and searched it so thoroughly that they left a mess, not even the cold bathroom was spared. But in the end, nothing was found by any member, however, there were clear evidence’s that someone must have been here recently.

"I’m sorry, my lord, Belacqua must have moved on with Miss Lyra," The chief of the squad reported disappointed. “Shall we search the area?"

"Yes …. Fuck no, just tell the team to back off," John replied to his associate, annoyed. " Me and my wife are going to take a closer look at this shithole ourselves!”

"My lord,” The chief bowed and turns around. “Guys, Lord Delamare has ordered us to go back to the cars!”

“Jacob ... “ A Man approaches the chief, “Shouldn't we ….”

“No …. Tom, just do what i tell you! We will continue the search later.”

“Right, let us go!!!”

With a loud whistle, everyone now rushed over and returned, as ordered, back to their cars.

John and Stella, however, entered the lab. Both are looking around for something in particular, a map or notes with clues as to where Asriel would be or where he was going, but both grandparents found nothing, until both entered Lyra's small room, near Asriel’s own bedroom. 

"Can you smell that?" John spoke, seeming suspicious. 

“Great Hera …” Stella averted her face, "darling …. you mean this repulsive, sweet smell?" She asked disgusted.

“I can also ask you how the weather is!”

"Fuck you, John,” Stella chuckled, she takes a deep breath and said, “Darling, now I can smell it."

"Then we're one step further," John joked, visible amused, how much his wife was disgusted by the sweet smell. Now he begins to search the drawers, then the small wardrobe and finally he walks to the bed, where Athena smelled something, she pointed it out to him.

"Strange?!" John asked himself. An idea spread through his brain, “Stella darling, please come to me and take a closer look at the bed.”

"As you wish," Stella replied, turning away from the wardrobe. She walks over to her husband, but the disgusting smell spread once more intensely in her nose, so she turns her face away again, but this time it was strangely different, and she sat on the bed without complaining. She pulls then her black leather gloves from her fingers and touched first the pillow and a little later the bed sheets.

"What the hell?!" 

Shocked, Stella pulls her fingers away. She rubs thumb and forefinger together and then she noticed that she had moisture on her hands, which forced her to pull immediately the sheets up to her nose to inhale the scent.

“The sheets, Fox,” she said aloud, sniffing with her nose. “It smells sweet. ... nonsense, it smells like sweat! Our little Lyra ... she is ...."

"Sick honey," completed John the sentence. "The smell was familiar to me. I recognized it, it's the same smell our children had when they were sick, especially Marisa smelled so sweet."

"Okay! So, if Lyra is sick, where are they going? Who could help them? I suspect that..." suddenly both heard a sleigh arrive. "Who might that be?" Stella wondered. She throws the covers away and puts on her gloves.

"Whoever it is now has a huge problem. Come on," her husband replied. Both of them drew their Sig Sauer P226 handguns out of their holster and crept quietly out of the lab.

* * *

* * *

When Stella & John stepped out of the laboratory, they saw a young man, currently busy with the dogs.

"Who do we have there?" Stella whispered in amusement.

"A young boy, my dear,” John noted, “I think it is his job to get Asriel's sled safely back to his laboratory.”

“Then I think,” Stella replied happily, “let's just introduce ourselves to the boy."

"All right, stay behind me!”

With gentle steps that could hardly be heard, both crept to their victim, who had no idea that he was in the shit right now. He only noticed it when there was a loud, ear deafening roar from Athena and the weapon, which John was holding, touched his skull. 

"Take it easy, mate. Hands out of your pockets, where I can see them."

"What do you want? I haven't done anything," the young man tried to explain himself. "I just bring the sledge back." 

Out of nowhere, Stella hit him hard in the stomach, forcing him to go onto his knees. “Wrong answer my boy!” She said with a sadistic smile. “But to your pleasure I am ignoring this because I think you're decent. So, my boy, let's play a little game to test my theory.”

“Then let's play!” 

“As you wish,” Stella reached into the pocket of her coat and pulls out a photo of Asriel, which she was now holding in front of the nose of the young man. "Where are They?” Stella asked commandingly, showing two other pictures of Lyra and Marisa in hands.

But the young man remained silent.

“Answer me boy,” Stella sighed, her daemon pressed the boy's daemon onto the cold floor. "Open your fucking mouth, boy ... where's my daughter and grandchild?!”

He spat in her face and spoke smiling, "go to hell you dirty whore."

"You fucking little bastard," John knocked the boy down, he grabs both of his arms and pushed it backwards. One hand now grips both arms and the other hand straightens the body again. 

“Darling?”

“With pleasure,” Stella reaches out with her hand and then lets her palm crash into the boy's face. Athena and Stella's daemon meanwhile took care of the boy's daemon … both bit him hard and pushed and beat him to the ground, he was completely inferior to them. But that wasn't enough for the two Delamares as Stella took off her gloves.

"That will hurt now. I'll teach you manners, my boy."

Stella clenches her fists, her face turns red with anger, then she lets her aggression out of her body ... Her blows are so hard that she breaks the boy's nose with ease. John, curiously watching the drama in front of him, had never seen his wife like this before.

“Honey, are you sure that you don’t have a few small aggression problems? 

"Me and aggression problems? Stella yells at her chuckling husband and boy at the same time, "I'm fucking angry! I want my fucking granddaughter back! I want my baby back!”

Lyra's grandma lets out all her anger. She beats the boy now as hard as possible, blood splattered on her coat and the black boots, she was wearing, until moments later she finally steps back, amazed and a little shocked at her own brutality. 

Her husband took over for her. He slapped the young man in the face several times before kicking him in the stomach to top it off.

"Now talk, Boy," John yelled at him, "we have no interest in killing you."

"I have seen them in Bolungarvík. They wanted to go to the port," he revealed with great pain. His daemon lay on the ground, writhing in pain.

"Was it that hard, you little bastard?" John lifted him up and put him on the sleigh, "we would love to let you die out here, boy, but that's not how we do things in Oxford."

Stella wipes the blood off the boy's face with a piece of cloth. Chuckling, she tells him to cut it off as a lesson. Then they finally released him and sent him back to Bolvangar, where he would get medical help if he arrived there alive.

"That was fun,” remarked John, very satisfied.

“Not so much to me,” Stella noted. She wipes her hands clean and puts her gloves back on. “It's been a while since I had to torture someone.”

“But to my pleasure, you didn't get out of practice and we have what we want” he said, cheerfully, taking his wife's hand whom, he leds to the car. “So now I say that we're going to Bolungarvík tomorrow.

“I agree,” Stella announced. She lowers her head and thinks suddenly of Lyra. “Please, hold out a little longer, Lyra, my love. Nana will find you."


	6. The Journey - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, Addes some new dialogue, improving readability, editing

A fresh breeze blew through Asriel's hair when he left the ship together with Marisa and his daughter Lyra. Immediately, he noticed that it was unusually quiet in the port area. There were only a few people to be seen currently, although it was a pleasant cool morning. The sun was already shining, but heavy rain had softened the streets, making walking a little harder for Marisa and Asriel than they thought.

Together with Lyra, who rested in Asriel's arms, and Thorold they trudged through the muddy and slippery streets of Bornholm. Old Thorold was carrying their suitcases and had a little trouble keeping up with Asriel. 

Marisa also had her problems with the situation. Her beautiful brown fur coat and the rest of her clothes were already covered in mud. Her favorite brown boots had to endure a lot too and that was enough …. This day … this very morning was already one of her worst days of her life.

"Asriel please wait a moment.”

Concerned, Marisa saw that Lyra was slowly waking up. She shivered from the cold, her face was reddish and her whole body trembled. 

“Lyra … Mama comes to you, it’s all right!” As fast as she could, Marisa tried to reach the freezing child, but that was more difficult than she thought. She literally stumbled through the mud, her legs stuck with every step and she had to use all the strength she had. "This fucking mud," she complained, seething with rage as she had a tantrum. "I'm going to freak out!!"

"Marisa,” Asriel chuckled, “no swear words, please!" 

But that only made the woman even more angry. She yelled back, “just laugh, Asriel. You will lose your laughter when I strangle you."

"Marisa, I like to remind you that your daughter can hear everything!" 

"Stop talking so stupidly," Marisa replied annoyed, but quickly she puts on her friendly smile as her mood changed, "Asriel … my darling, I ask you politely to come to me."

"Surely, darling!” 

With quick steps Asriel walks to his lover. He reaches for her gloved hand and slowly pulls the woman with him through the mud. 

After a few minutes they reached a bench, near a church, where Asriel hands carefully his daughter into the secure arms of her mother. Lyra on the other hand immediately nestled tighter against her mother. She barely noticing how Marisa goes on her knees and places Lyra on the bench, but what Marisa didn't notice was that Lyra Louisa immediately begins to shiver from the cold once more.

"Mommy?" Lyra called in a low voice.

"Darling … what’s bothering you, hm?" Asked Marisa, opening her suitcase.

"Mommy … do I h.... ha... have to d.... d... die?" 

Marisa looks up, horrified, "Lyra, you're just sick," she said, trying to calm the child. "It's just flu, my love, nothing serious."

"Your mother is right," Asriel looks a little horrified too. He goes on his knees and caresses one of her warm, sweaty cheeks of his daughter with his palm. "You don't have to be afraid of it, my little monkey,” he said. “You will get well again, I promise."

With his blue eyes, he looks smirking Lyra in the eye, but he didn't expect to hear anything like that from his own daughter. Lyra was afraid, which was clear to him, but the fact that the fear was already so great cached him off guard. Marisa felt the same way, she wasn't prepared for it either, so she made Lyra familiar with her situation once more, that took a few minutes, but then Lyra was more relaxed and was wearing her new jacket too. 

"Next I would suggest we have breakfast here somewhere," Asriel announced, pulling his sleeves back over his watch.

All four continued on their way through the muddy streets of Bornholm and quickly found, after a short walk, a small anonymous inn. The inn itself was small and not very spacious, only a few guests could eat a meal here at once.

When the little family entered the small building, they were completely undisturbed, only the young hostess, who was busy to open the bar, was already present. She politely greeted the small family with her servant and prepared a table, while her guests slowly took off their coats. Then Lyra, Thorold, Marisa and Asriel comfortably take a seat at the table, but they were still very attentive. They did not like the fact that they were undisturbed, Asriel was especially tense. 

He could not sit calmly, every two minutes he looks out through the little window at the streets …. life was slowly awakening in Bornholm. The streets were slowly filling up with the residents, who were doing their usual morning activities.

"Honey, what is the matter?” Marisa asked in a whisper, reaching for his hand to give it a gentle squeeze. 

“Nothing very important," Asriel answered, "Lyra should eat something.” 

He pulls his hand away and reached for the newspaper on the neighbor's table, turning his attention to it. 

Marisa in turn sighed frustrated, she knows deep inside that something was bothering him. Asriel was always on alert, but never like this and unfortunately, she didn’t know why. What didn’t make things easier was that she experienced the typical Asriel, stubborn and grumpy, therefore Marisa had to realize that it was not possible to get through to her lover and she had to let it be.

"Well Lyra, we order breakfast!”

As soon as Marisa spoke the sentence, Lyra holds out her arms and was placed on her mother’s lap. The Marisa reaches for the menu, opens it, and begins to search for the right food together with Lyra. 

When Marisa, minutes later, had made out the final decision, she called for the waitress, who had just started her service. She hurried as fast as she could to the table and noted, on a small pad with a pencil, the order. Then she disappeared in the kitchen and the room became quiet again.

The little family sat silently at the table and was busy with themselves. All members were still exhausted from the long journey, especially Lyra, who had been sleeping most of the time in the past few days. From day to day, she was getting weaker and her illness got worse. 

Marisa's worries on the other hand grew, she had never been in a situation like this before. The only thing she had to worry about in the past was herself or her good reputation she had to rebuild after the trial. Asriel also struggled with it, but he showed no sign of it. He constantly tried to suppress his feelings.

But if they wouldn't reach Askersund quickly, both parents were in danger of breaking under the weight. Lyra's disease weighed heavily on both of them. Both knew only too well that Lyra was even more dependent on them than ever before.

To distract herself a little from it, Marisa begins to rock her daughter, who immediately nestled to her mother in return. She inhaled the sweet-smelling scent and slowly began to sink into a light sleep. Her father watched her curiously. He himself didn't know how his daughter could calm down so quickly in Marisa's arms and just fell asleep. 

When Lyra was still a toddler and Asriel did not have to pretend to be her uncle, he also enjoyed rocking Lyra in his arms, but she never fell asleep so fast. There was something about Marisa that he could not explain, a calming aura, perhaps? Or was it just her maternal instinct that changed the little girl so much. 

In Marisa’s presence Lyra was a different child and no little tomboy when Asriel himself was present. This change was almost magical and Asriel liked that, he wanted to see his daughter happy at all costs.

With a smirk, Asriel shifted his attention back to his newspaper after his short detour in his mind. After a couple of minutes, the waitress brought the breakfast. 

Immediately, a fresh smell of coffee rose in Asriel's nose, he couldn't wait to get started, but Marisa thwarted his plans. Calmly, she rises from her chair and puts Lyra on his lap without saying a word. Then she went back to her chair.

"Honey, what exactly do you want from me?" Asriel asked confused.

Marisa shakes her head. Smiling, she points to her daughter, who was moving slowly in Asriel's lap. She was indeed awake, smiling happily at her daddy.

"Your adorable daughter,” Marisa chuckles, “just wants to have breakfast with you!”

Asriel nods a little grumpily. It was still not clear to him why Marisa didn't ask him to take care of Lyra, but that didn’t care him anymore. He moved his daughter a little on his lap so that she was sitting comfortably and starts to make her a sandwich.

First, Asriel takes two slices of bread and smeared the butter on one half, then Lyra's big hour struck. For the first time she was allowed to give the instructions. Calmly, she tells her father what she wanted on her bread.

"As you wish, young lady," remarked Asriel chuckling.

He grabbed Lyra's favorite sausage and placed it on the bread. Then to top it off, puts the second slice of bread on top of the first.

"Your breakfast is ready, my little cookie monster."

Asriel picked up the finished sandwich and handed it to the still giggling Lyra. She beamed when she takes the first bite. It pleased her so much that the full attention of her father was focused on her. Her mother, watching her smiling, was visibly relieved. What Asriel was doing at the moment was what she wanted to achieve, even the grumpy old papa bear had to admit that having a little fun in the morning was a perfect distraction to forgot the Magisterium for a moment.

However, what Lyra’s mother noticed after couple of minutes was that Lyra had trouble to eat her sandwich. She ate as much as possible, but then, with a moan she signalized that she couldn't anymore and leans back against her father to digest the meal. Her stomach however had a different plan. 

Her stomach twisted painfully, but Lyra was strong. She tried to survive and suppress the urge to vomit, but in the end, she had to give in as the strongest urge come over her. The porridge, inside her tummy, rushes through her throat and shot, with an exhausted moan from Lyra, straight to the floor.

The whole floor was, moments later, full of disgusting porridge. Lyra herself was sweating, completely out of breath as she sank back into the firm embrace of her father.

“Breathe calmly Lyra, papa is here. We quickly go to the toilet, try to resist the next urge as long as you could.”

Marisa stood up and was immediately with her daughter. She followed with quick steps Asriel to the small toilet of the inn, where Lyra had to vomit again.

“Let everything out, darling. Mama and papa are with you.”

Lyra's stomach contracted once more. She cried out painfully., her stomach twisted, and she had violently to vomit one last time. Then she collapsed from exhaustion, falling back into her mother’s arms, who held her while her father wiped her face clean with a washcloth.

"M.... mo... momma p.... ple... please h.... he... help me!” Lyra said with her last strength as the tears flowed. “I w... w.... want it to s... s... stop. I...” 

Before she could continue, Marisa silenced her. Her grip tightened and she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Hush, my darling," she said in a whisper, massaging Lyra's hair. "I know that vomiting gets on your nerves, but please you have to hold out a little longer. We'll be with Aunt Mary tonight at the latest."

She tried desperately to cheer up the girl, but her fear grew, the virus took all her daughters strength; Lyra’s legs felt limp just like her arms and she could barely walk. Fortunately for her, she fell asleep again relatively quickly, but the sleep was not very restful. She was constantly moving in Marisa's arms, just like Pantalaimon who was nestled against her neck.

"We must reach Mary as soon as possible," said Marisa half crying. "I can no longer bear to see my little beloved baby suffer."

"Neither do I, Marisa." Asriel flushes the toilet, even he could bear no more.

He stands at the toilet and watches Lyra and Marisa. His mood changes, he becomes more and more concerned and nervous. He keeps to tap one foot on the wooden floor as his hands were hidden in his pockets to hide his tremors. His daemon, Stelmaria, rubbed her head against his left leg and he bent slightly to pet her head which she commented with a happy purr. 

“For the first time in my long life, I'm scared of Stelmaria.” Asriel said to her with a trembling voice.

"Lyra the poor thing," she replied worried, "she has to get out of here immediately, I suggest we don't wait a minute longer, Asriel.”

With a growl, Asriel agreed and both followed Marisa out of the room. They quickly bought a couple of packed lunches before they got dressed and left the inn.

* * *

* * *

With quick steps the little family marched through the muddy streets of Bornholm, there was no time to lose now. Neither Asriel nor Marisa wanted to see Lyra suffer any longer.

After a few minutes they reached the city limits, where only a few houses were left. Unfortunately, it started to rain, which caused Lyra's parents to walk faster until they reached and entered the rental car building for off-road vehicles. Together with Thorold, Lord Asriel did the necessary formalities, while Marisa takes a seat, with Lyra on her lap, on a small bench in the entrance area of the building.

Urgently, she needed a break just like her daemon who never liked long journeys much to her displeasure. Oz was happy when he could curl up next to his human half and just had nothing to do. He disliked very much that Lyra now lived together with Marisa. Everything would only revolve around the little one in the near future. According to him, she wanted to play “mama”. 

Lyra should never ever had entered Marisa's life again. It would only cause problems, which was his point of view. But Lyra's bad-tempered and extremely worried mother didn't like that. Her anger at her daemon discharged. She punched Oz hard in the face with her left hand.

“I will never give up my daughter," she scolded angrily, "you little stupid monkey bastard.”

Oz hissed at her, but one angry look from Marisa was enough to make him realize that he shouldn't argue with her any further. At least he shouldn't get so upset, because his great love Stelmaria was with him and he should concentrate on her. Lyra was Marisa’s and Asriel's problem. Therefore, as much as he hated it, he should finally make his peace with her. 

Already during Marisa's pregnancy, he had always complained about the nausea and stress Marisa had every day while Lyra was growing in her stomach. After all Lyra was never really planned and rather a little misfortune, which Marisa had allowed herself. 

However, over the years, both, human and daemon, had developed a kind of love-hate relationship, but when it was necessary, they stuck together. But between all the love there was something else. Marisa's daemon sometimes showed a different side of her in a cruel way, more precisely something cold and ruthless surrounded her, which had broken through her good side when she sacrificed Roger Parslow to protect her little baby Lyra Louisa.

Lyra's mother really wanted to hide this from her child, but in London that side had sometimes took control of her, causing Lyra to find herself writhing on the floor in pain. The reason was that Marisa's daemon attacked Pan on her instructions and painfully pushed him to the ground, just because Marisa couldn't stand that Lyra was carrying a shoulder bag in the apartment.

Lyra’s mother now regretted that with all her heart.

"Marisa? We can go, the car is standing by," Asriel called to her. 

He stood a few feet away and ripped her from her thoughts/ from the conversation with her daemon. Stelmaria, who stood next to Asriel, jumped next to Marisa on the bench, where she immediately realized as she looks down to the sleeping child that only a short sharp look was enough to recognize that Lyra was Asriel's daughter.

Lyra had so much of her father in her. Her resemblance was astonishing and Stelmaria was embarrassed to have given up little Lyra years ago. She had never understood why Asriel felt compelled to do so, but she realized that it not only for her protection, but also to hide her from the Delamare family.

"Stel, do you want to take a closer look at Lyra?" asked Marisa.

"If you do not mind,” Stelmaria answered quietly, shaking her head approving.

Marisa then begins to shift her daughter on her lap so that she lay moments later like a baby in her mother's arms. Now, Stelmaria's big head drooped slowly while she gently caressed Lyra's warm forehead that was soaked with sweat with one of her big paws.

She realized that she never had been so close to Lyra before and she truly loved to be with Lyra.

* * *

* * *

The sun was already setting when the small family reached Askersund, which was about twenty kilometers away from Trollesund. They had been on the road for four long hours, Asriel could hardly keep his eyes open, unlike Marisa, who slept quietly with Lyra in the back seats.

Everyone was exhausted and the sight of Marisa's house gave the two men in the car some strength back. The house itself was built in a large country style. Brown wood adorned the house, as did the large windows with their beautiful white frames. There was even a balcony with a good view over the garden. The tall hedge, which was only interrupted by the long driveway to the house, provided a bit of privacy.

This privacy was very much appreciated in Askersund. The Magisterium didn't have much influence here, which made life more relaxed. Asriel also noticed this when he drove through the streets in the middle of the village. Relaxed, he could drive slowly and at the same time exchange a few words with Thorold. Both were already planning their stay here in Askersund for several weeks, but then decided to stop talking about it. After all, there was enough time.

They drove on through Askersund and then just at the end of the village entered the long driveway, which brought them to Marisa's house.

Asriel and his servant got out of the jeep and breathed in the fresh, cool night air as the first stars were already visible and almost synchrony the famous Aurora appeared in the sky.

"The aurora has always been a beautiful sight. Don't you think so too Thorold?" Asked Asriel curiously, leaning with his elbow on the hood of the car.

The old man in return looks at him with a grin, "Yes, I love it too,” he replied. “I still remember how you watched the stars every night as a little boy with your brother"

"It was a good time before it got dark in the world. Before the Magisterium completely lost its mind," Asriel said thoughtfully, showing that he hated the Magisterium like the plague. Everything he had worked for had been taken from him. His reputation, his money along with his property.

"Thorold,” Asriel continues with a sign, “we were persecuted like criminals only because we recognized the truth. How many good people are left? How many remain true to themselves?”

"Nobody is left," Thorold replied with a grumpy voice, "the Magisterium has done too much, and you should remember that your daughter is more important than research.”

A well-intentioned advice from him for Asriel, but Thorold also knows exactly how stubborn Asriel could be just like now. 

"Don't give me advice I know what I'm doing," he fired angrily back, and Thorold hit him for his answer.

"Enough Asriel, I'm not going to watch you ruin yourself," Thorold said angrily in Asriel's face. He pointed to Lyra without looking in her direction, "this child is your daughter. You promised her that you would take care of her with Marisa.”

"I know," Asriel wiped the blood from his face that was running out of his nose. "So, what do you suggest, old friend?"

"Forget your research and take care of your daughter," recommended his trusty servant to him. "Lyra needs you more than ever and you know that Asriel. Make something of it, I'm here for you."

Asriel nods in agreement. He looks into the car, where Marisa looks at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. She must have heard everything. 

Slowly, she got out of the car and briefly stretched her limbs together with her daemon before she goes to Asriel to give him a hug.

"I knew that if Thorold would confront you," she says with a soft chuckle, "you would finally realize how important our daughter is.”

She kissed him passionately, Asriel's grip tightened around her and the time stood still for a moment until both heard Lyra moaning in the car.

"Time to pay a visit to Mary."

Marisa broke away from Asriel and pulled him by his hand back to the car, where she slowly and quietly opened the door. Lyra was already moving in her child seat. Sleepily, she rubs the sleeping sand out of her eyes with her little hands before her mother appeared in her field of vision, who reaches out her hand and brushed a wet strand of hair from her warm face.

"We have arrived in Askersund, honey. From now on everything will get better, I promise."

Lyra’s mother carefully loosened the seat belt and slowly takes the girl out of the car. Oz gently grabbed Lyra's daemon, Pantalaimon, who was still on the seat and brought him to Stelmaria. 

Slowly, the snow leopard lowered her body so he could climb on her and then rose again. Then the three daemons and their human halves made their way to Mary's house, which they reached after a short march.

Asriel himself knocked hard a few times on the wooden door.

"One moment, please," Mary called out of her garden and runs through her big house with quick steps and opened the door. "Marisa dear, nice to see you," She greeted her old friend, but she quickly saw that something was wrong. Marisa had a child in her arms and Lord Asriel in tow.

"I need your help," said Marisa in a calm voice, but visible tense. "My daughter is sick, she has a virus.”

"Come in quickly," Mary stepped aside. "The Cold is not good for the little one.”

With their heads lowered, Marisa and Asriel entered the house and with a loud bang Oz closed the door.

* * *

* * *

"Once more, nothing! …. Shit …. That can't be fucking true!!"

Lady Stella Delamare was beside herself with rage. She had already been stomping through Bolungarvík alone for four hours, looking for a clue to finally find her granddaughter, but nobody had seen anything, and she'd interviewed every damned employee in town thoroughly. 

She got slowly tired of it, she just didn't feel like it anymore and urgently needing a break. Just like her daemon, who was standing next to her.

"Come here, darling." She said with a sigh. The daemon in return jumped into her open arms. Then slowly, Stella begins to walk back to the harbor district to a small pub, a pub she had visited often with when she had business to do here in Bolungarvík. The pub itself was small, but very cozy and perfect for forgetting something bad.

But Stella was unable to do this when she arrived. 

Annoyed, she opened the door with a firm push and slowly sauntered past several other tables to her husband. Arrived there, she takes off her black leather gloves, opens her black coat, which she puts over her chair. Then finally she could take a seat across from her husband with a big pout.

"According to your facial expression," said John in a growing voice, "you didn't find anything. What a fucking shit!" Angrily he hit the table with the stapler in his hand, which led to his carefully sorted papers falling on the floor. "What am I doing again? John commented with a sigh and gets up from his chair.

Slowly he goes on his knees, gathers up the papers and puts them back on the table. Afterwards he approached his wife, "don't give up Stella." He says cheerfully in a calm voice. "I have another ace up my sleeve …. I … I would never ever dare to disappoint you."

"I know that Fox," Stella replied with a kiss. She trusts his hope, knowing that Johnathan “Fox” Delamare would never give up. He still had an idea of how hopeless the situation would be, but the most important thing was that both had to stay calm if they wanted to find little Lyra.

"Have a sip of coffee and rest a little, my love."

John kissed her on the mouth and sat down at the table again, arranging the papers he had mixed up himself. Next, both spent another half an hour together in the pub before encountering a small surprise in the form of a note. 

It was brought to Stella by a messenger.

"What is it?" John asked curiously. Stella turned the note over so John could see it. He read aloud, "come outside immediately."

Both got up and grabbed their coat’s before they went to the door. First, they saw nothing, but another messenger appeared and told them to go to a small barn, on the other side of the road. They did what was asked for and reached the small building with quick steps, opened the door, and entered. 

But it was cold and dark in the barn, only a small lamp gave some light. Their eyes had to adjust, but what they saw immediately changed their mood. Both looked at each other with a devilish smile.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, adjustments

"I can't take it anymore, Asriel, I want to know what's wrong with my little baby." Marisa said as she paced up and down the living room. She shakes with worry all over her body. Her hidden fears, which she hadn't really realized, were awakened.

"Marisa, my darling, relax, our daughter is in good hands." Lord Asriel noted. 

He was sitting on the couch, currently busy going through some of his notes. Of course, he was also worried about his daughter, but he tried to think positively. His daughter would get back on her feet. She was strong, even stronger than both of her parents.

"I really shouldn't be that excited, Lyra will be fine," Marisa said to herself, taking a seat on the couch next to Asriel. Then she lets her head fall on his lap and stretched out her tired legs. Asriel in return puts his notes aside and takes his lover tightly in a loving hug, her head now resting on his chest.

"Try to relax," Asriel spoke calmly with a loving smile as he looks into her cold-blue eyes. His palms glided gently across her forehead and then across her warm, soft cheeks before it slowly moved down on her and Marisa let a lustful moan escape from her mouth.

Simultaneously Marisa’s hand moved to Stelmaria, who lay curled up with Oz in front of the couch. She pulls on the fur, which caused Asriel pain, but the relaxation came immediately in the form of gentle hand movements by Marisa through Stelmaria's snow-white, black-spotted, warm fur.

Both Asriel and Stelmaria felt now a pleasant and arousing pain., which forces him to pull the woman on the couch. Their mouths meet for a loving kiss and together they slipped through Stelmaria's fur. 

“Asriel ….” Marisa moaned, “Hold yourself back, please, otherwise I can’t control myself.”

“It’s just a little cuddle,” Asriel chuckled. “Forget your worries, darling.” 

“I will, “ Marisa moaned. She pulls Asriel towards him, kissing him passionately, but their intimate togetherness was soon dissolved by the appearance of Mary, who waited at the end of the living room.

“Come with me, please!” 

With a hand signal, both parents rose from the couch and followed Dr. Malone into another room, where Lyra lay curled up on a soft bed together with her daemon, Pantalaimon, who slept near her little head peacefully.

Her parents entered the room very quietly and take a seat on either side of the bed. Both simultaneously held out their hands and let their palms slowly and gently glide over their daughter's warm, sweaty face. They both felt too how much Lyra was suffering at the moment.

Neither Marisa nor Asriel knew how to deal with the situation because both had first to realize what was going on. They had successfully managed to get Lyra to safety but what should they do next? They didn't know it, they wouldn't know it tomorrow either, but right now there was where more important thing … Lyra’s health. 

“How is my daughter's condition?" Marisa asked. 

Mary in turn looks deep into Marisa’s eyes as she speaks, "according to the circumstances, quite well, but she has a bad flu, a special one, which is only widespread in the Nordic countries of the world."

"What we have to expect? How long will it take until my daughter is healthy again?" Asked Lord Asriel.

"It will take several weeks before she fully recovers," Mary explained. "The fever will continue to rise, and the vomiting will increase."

"Is there anything else important that we have to consider?" 

"Lyra will be asleep most of the time, very weak and you will have to feed her." Mary replied, taking her notes for Lyra's medical record. “Both of you must be patient. Do not be afraid, she will fully recover from it. I leave you alone for the moment." Mary left the room, closing the door silently.

Asriel looks at Marisa, while Mary had been explaining the situation, he only had paid attention to Lyra. He could see now how deeply shocked Marisa was and a few moments later she burst into tears. "My little baby," She takes her daughter into her arms, rocking her gently, trying with all her might to kiss her back to health, but unfortunately, all the love she showed for her own child could not cure any diseases. It broke Asriel's heart to see Marisa to cry so bitterly.

“Honey there is no need to cry,” Asriel said with a smile, rising from the bed. He walks to her side and puts both arms around everything he had left in his life. "I can understand that you are trying everything to speed up the healing, but that will take time."

Unfortunately, Asriel couldn't hasten Lyra's healing either. The most important thing for now was that they both kept calm because Lyra was safe with them. That was the most important thing for now and that's exactly what he tried to make Marisa understand.

"I know, but I want my little baby to be healthy again now!" Lyra's mother complained, crying. "I just don't want to see her suffer anymore."

"I don't want that either," Asriel replied. "Mary will give us medicine for Lyra and then everything will turn out better."

Marisa nodded in agreement, she pressed Lyra more gently against her breast and smiled. Lyra gave her hope and strength back.

"This is the Marisa I know," Asriel said with a laugh and kissed Marisa. "Wipe the tears from your face, we're going home."

* * *

* * *

A new day dawned. The sun was already rising, and a light snowfall had started a few hours ago. Marisa Coulter herself had already been awake for an hour. In this hour, she had taken a shower, dressed herself, and prepared a small breakfast for her family. Now it was time to check on Lyra, who was still soundly asleep in her room, on the first floor of the house.

But suddenly when Marisa was about to enter the room … Asriel appeared. He was yawning loudly, and his hair was disheveled, when his eyes caught the sight of Marisa. 

“Good morning darling, did you sleep well?” Marisa asked, stepping up to him.

"Yes, I slept very well," Asriel replied, pulling his lover close. "I think this was the first night we both had a little more peace."

"I know, honey, we both always had to hide when we were together, but we don't have to anymore."

"You’re right we really don't have to anymore, my love. The future awaits the three of us!”

"I couldn't have said it better," replied Marisa happily. The mention of Lyra puts a smile on her face. She found Asriel's change of heart pleasant. He seemed almost like a family man these last days, but he still had his grumpy nature. “Will you get Lyra out of bed, please?" She asked with a giggle. "I am sure that she will be happy when she is woken up by her father."

Asriel grinned with a big smile and kissed her, "of course, Honey." He said and separated from his lover. He walks then quietly to the end of the hallway, and enters Lyra's room, which looked a bit dark. It also smelled a little sweet when Asriel made his way to the bed, where he got on his knees a short time later and looked at Lyra’s closed eyes. 

"Lyra, my little star, are you awake?" Asriel asked with a morning cheerfulness. His palm slowly glides across her sweaty face, checking her temperature as he noted with concern that her fever had risen a little more. It was also visible when the child opened his tired eyes, she looked pale.

"P.... pa... papa," Lyra spoke softly in a tired voice. She reached out her hand and with the palm of her hand she caressed Asriel's face.

"I also wish you a good morning, my little darling," Asriel replied with a chuckle, giving Lyra a kiss. "How are you feeling today, hm?" 

"I do… don't fe…feel any be… bet… better to... today, papa. I w.… wa… want it … to … be o… over at l… la… last.”

“Aunt Mary says it will take some time, but when you are reasonably strong again, you can pull the fur over the ears of an armored bear on your own,” joked Lord Asriel. He didn't want to see his daughter bursting into tears, Lyra should be happy …. Askersund was a turning point in her illness, everything would get better from now on.

“Are you hungry, little star?”

Lyra nods slightly in agreement, she didn't look very happy, but the will was there. That made Asriel's life a little easier.

"Then let's get you out of bed,” Asriel pushed the covers that warmed Lyra's body to the front of the bed before Lyra held up her weak arms and allowed her father to pick her up. Then he carried her down to the kitchen.

When father and daughter reached the kitchen, they both saw that Marisa was busy at the moment to put some bread with fried bacon and eggs on the table for her two loved ones. At first, they did not want to disturb and watched Marisa quietly and unobtrusively for a few moments, but then they took courage and entered the kitchen.

"There are my two dearest ones!” Marisa announced with a big smile.

She lets father and daughter take a seat at the table. Next, she carefully pours coffee and tea into the cups, takes off her kitchen apron and takes a seat at the table next to her daughter. At the same time, Asriel picks up his newspaper and notices when he had opened the paper that Marisa calmly takes a fork, skewered some bacon, and then brought the fork to Lyra's mouth.

Unfortunately, Lyra Louisa didn't want to play the way Marisa wanted. She kept to turn her face away, grunting, while Marisa herself kept to bring the fork to the mouth of her daughter.

"Darling, come on, please, you must eat." Marisa tried again to put the fork in Lyra's mouth, but the same thing happened. She sighed worriedly and puts the fork aside. "Lyra Louisa, why don't you want to eat?" She asked, slightly aroused, turning Lyra's face to her with two fingers.

"M.... ma... mama," Lyra looks away again in despair, feeling miserable as she did not dare to look into her mother's eyes. "I'm n… not h… hun… hungry,” she admits softly.

"Don't you like what I served you?” Marisa asked annoyed, she lets out a sigh. “I have made an extra effort to make sure you like it too, darling.”

"I a.... ap... appreciate th... that, ma... mama," Lyra struggled with tears and sobbed, "b... but I'm s... s... so afr... afraid t... that I mi... might v.... vo... vomit a... ag... again!”

“Honey ….” Her mother could understand her fear, but her daughter had to eat something, but suddenly Asriel looks up from his newspaper, "Lyra, if you don't want to eat, the disease wins and laughs at you, but you are stronger, therefore, please, my little monkey, try to eat at least a little bit."

Contemporaneous, Marisa picks up the fork and led it again to her daughter's mouth. Then Lyra opened it wide enough for her mother to insert the fork. Then the girl closed her mouth, while her mother pulls out the fork of the mouth simultaneously. Moments later, Marisa notices that Lyra started to chew.

“That wasn't so hard my darling." She said softly with a smirk, continuing to feed her daughter. "A fork for Mama... one for Papa... one for Grandma Stella."

"One for Grandma Stella?!” Asriel looks up again from his newspaper, confused as Marisa just shrugged her shoulders, smiling mischievously. But Asriel remained serious, "another one for Grandma Mona, please."

"As you wish," Marisa spoke, looking at Lyra who didn't know what was going on. She was chewing and looking slightly in the direction of her father's daily newspaper. "Darling, the music is playing here!”

“Hmm,” Lyra turned her face with a smile to her mother and once again the fork was brought to her little mouth.

* * *

Later that day

* * *

Huddled up in a chair and sulking, Marisa watches her daughter as she sleeps restlessly. In the last hours she had been busy sorting her clothes into the big wooden wardrobe, but to her displeasure she had to do it without Asriel, who was currently with his servant Thorold on a journey to Trollesund.

It was just too clear to Marisa that in the near future she would often be on her own and have to manage the household herself without a servant, which caused that she was already a bit upset. She was not used to take care of a child alongside managing everything, which went with it, like the household, however, her own mother, Lady Stella, was able to do this. Unassisted, she had raised four children, done the housekeeping, and been a good wife.

Marisa thought about it as she takes her little break after the hard work she had already done, but the next or rather last task awaited her for today. She urgently needed to go shopping so she went quietly out of the room and grabbed pen and paper. First, she had to make a list of what she would need.

"Are you going to be a housewife, Marisa?" Asked her daemon with some mockery in his voice.

"Do not mention this word of shame in my presence,” Marisa replied grumpily, “It's only temporary!”

"Well, my dear only temporarily means for the next few years."

"Just keep your mouth shut," Marisa shouted furiously at her daemon, rising from her chair. "Make yourself useful and check on Lyra," she pointed to the stairs and slightly raised her other hand, "get the hell out of here!"

Oz jumped off the table as fast as he could and ran up the stairs. Then when Marisa no longer saw him, her nerves calmed down.

"What have I gotten myself into," she said to herself. "I should have gone straight back to London.” She turns back to her notes for the next half hour before she got dressed as just in time Mary appeared to keep an eye on Lyra.

"Mary, nice that you could set it up!”

"Always a pleasure," replied Mary, approaching her friend. "It's so terribly boring at the moment anyway.”

"This small town has always been sleepy.” 

Marisa closes her coat. She puts on her red scarf together along with her fur hat before she smoothes her coat once more, checking that everything was perfect. Then she passes Mary and opens the door.

“Have fun, mommy,” mocked Mary with a slight giggle.

"Don't scoff, better take care of my daughter, goodbye!" Marisa nastily fired back at Mary. 

With some anger in her stomach, Marisa closed the door with a bang. Then, together with Hera, she stomped through the deep snow. It took her a while until she reached the other end of the village, where the small shopping hall was located. Arrived there, she grabbed a shopping cart, and the adventure, named shopping, begone.

First, Marisa rolls into the vegetable & fruit section and collected what she needed. This included, for example, carrots, apples, and bananas. But as she puts her carefully packed purchases into her shopping cart, she felt watched and pathetic. Even Oz, who was sitting in the shopping cart, feels the same as everyone in the store around looks at the gorgeous woman, who presumably went shopping for the first time herself.

Marisa tries to look away, she tries to book the evil looks the people gave her out, but she panicked very quickly, because she desperately tried to fade out the fact that people hadn't forgotten that she worked for the magisterium. She was known and feared at the same time, everyone knew Mrs. Coulter.

And everyone in the room quietly cursed her and Marisa took it to heart. She did what she had to do for her daughter although she may have broken the hearts of some residents of the city with her actions.

Confused and frightened, she starts moments later to sob in fear, feeling embarrassed for a reason … the people looked at her like she was the devil personally. Then she started to cry, she bowed her head sadly and her tears dripped onto the floor.

"Don't you vultures have anything else to do? Get out of here, she is just a human," an old woman screamed at the other people who looked stupid and had frightened Marisa. The people around walked on and the old woman calmly approached the young mother and handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you, madam." Marisa spoke smiling, wiping the tears from her face. Together they rolled into the next section.

"They just don't know what they're doing dear," explained the lady to Marisa. "For this people, you're just the devil himself.”

"You're right, madam, these people are just a bunch of bloody bastards."

“You are right, young lady," replied the woman with a smirk. "The people of this village have always been a little strange."

"You know these people? .... Tell me do you live here?" Marisa asked curiously, reaching for a few packs of noodles.

"For more than thirty years," said the woman longingly. "I'm seventy-five years old my dear child. I've seen a lot of hate and suffering in this cursed village."

"You are seventy-five years old?!" Marisa looks at the old lady in wonder. Her hair was still shimmering in a beautiful black color in the light and her face was well-groomed. "You don't look that old madam, anyway I hate this village too. I was only a few times here together with my older sister and my mother.”

“I know that your travels with your mother have been very beautiful, young lady." Replied the old woman with a giggle. Marisa looks at her a little confused, the old lady spoke quickly once more, "if you have to go shopping, you have to live here for a while."

“You're right again,” replies Marisa out of necessity, a little bit suspiciously. "I'll stay for a few weeks."

"If you ever need my help, call me," The old lady pulls out a small piece of paper out of her bag with her number on it. "Take good care of your daughter, Marisa. I'll be seeing you."

The old lady disappeared without another word and left the frozen Marisa standing there. Her hands were shaking, her speech was gone, and she could no longer think clearly. Quickly, her daemon brought her back to the present.

"Marisa ... the old lady ... now go after her."

“Shut up!” Marisa pulls herself together and runs after the lady, reaching her a few seconds later and stopping in front of her. "How did you know that I have a daughter?” Marisa asked with a cold voice. Her expression darkened and her daemon hissed threateningly on her shoulder.

The old lady smiled, she replied, "we mothers have an aura that is unmistakable."

"What does that mean?" Marisa asked annoyed.

"You wouldn't believe we anyway, but for now I apologize if I scared you a little. Have a nice day, Isa," the old woman replied kindly and vanished.

Marisa herself could only shake her head in wonder. Why did the woman know that she had a daughter? How did she know her nickname? It was so strange, she couldn't make sense of it. 

"Just forget what she said Marisa, she only fished in murky waters. It was a coincidence," said Oz, trying to calm her, but Marisa was too excited to cut it off quickly. She crossed her arms and patted the floor with her heels nervously.

What was the strange old woman hiding? Marisa was smart and tried to find answers, but that had to wait for now. She runs out of time, Lyra urgently needed her mother. That was more important to Marisa than a strange old woman. Therefore, with an unfamiliar feeling, she went back to her shopping cart.

One after the other, she rolled into the remaining various food departments. Marisa also found the necessary items for her dog lady and puts them into the shopping cart, but suddenly there was a familiar barking. Marisa turned her gaze and tilted her head slightly to one side. Her face softened.

„I know you're hungry."

She goes on her knees and gently petted the dog lady. Hera even liked it so much that she starts to lick Marisa’s face with her tongue. The woman herself allowed it for a few moments before she gently grabbed Hera's head with both hands and looks deep into her blue eyes.

"Who's the best mommy in the world?" Marisa asked.

A loud barking sounded, and Hera's paw pointed in the direction of Marisa. She immediately appreciated that answer, she starts to giggle like a child. 

"You're fucking right about that."

With her free hand Marisa takes a dog cookie out of an open pack and fed it to Hera. Then she rose again and walks with her shopping cart towards the checkout. Afterwards, she puts everything she had bought neatly into her bags and headed outside, where a nasty snowstorm was already underway.

"I curse you mother, just fuck you!" Marisa growled.

She starts to walk without saying another word. Every step was a torture and soon she had enough, but she had to go through it, for Lyra.

Half an hour later, panting and in a bad mood Marisa finally opens the door and entered the warm house. She stripped off her coat and boots and made her way to the kitchen, but outside the door to the kitchen she stopped and listened attentively. She heard a loud snoring. 

Quietly, she called for Mary, but there was no trace of her, she must have gone home and Asriel's coat was on its place, so she entered the kitchen and found out that her lover had fallen asleep, his head rested on the table above his newspaper.

"Asriel, wake up !!!!" She yelled with a nasal and slanted voice.

"What? Who? .... I didn't sleep, I just pretend it." Asriel woke up roughly. His head rose and he looks curiously with sleepy eyes at Marisa who stood in front of him with her hands on her hip.

"Are you crazy? Just falling asleep," Marisa yelled at him maliciously, seething with anger. "Lyra could have called for you! I don't believe it!” She shakes her head in disbelief, but her anger didn't last long, and she massaged Asriel's blond hair which looked a little bit darker in these days. 

She strolled behind him, dropped her head, and kissed him. Her arms embraced his body. She tried to relieve her anger she had unnecessarily brought towards the innocent Asriel and to apologize to him. "I'm so sorry honey, my day was tough," Marisa apologized. “Can you do me a favor?” She asked with a pout.

"What can I do for you? "Asriel asked the counter-question.

"Please put the purchases in the fridge.”

Asriel blushed, getting nervous, "I'm so sorry,” he apologized. “I still have to work darling, so you have to do it. As a housewife, you are better suited for this job."

Marisa's expression swayed between amused and vicious, "what do you have to do? What is so important Asriel?"

"I have to …. change …. Lyra's sheets," Asriel explained. "She also has to take a bath. Have a good time, darling," he rose from his chair, kissed Marisa and disappeared.

Desperate and with an angry voice, Marisa called for Asriel's servant.

"Thoroldddddddd!"

"Broke his leg. He is in the hospital Marisa.”

Marisa sighed bitterly and frothed with rage. Annoyed, she takes her bags and carried them into the kitchen where she puts them on the table. Then she starts to put the purchases away, but her daemon raised her again with the word "housewife."

"Get out of here!" Marisa yelled at her daemon. Oz vanished as quickly as he could. She herself continued to put the purchases away.

* * *

Three days later

* * *

The Life as a housewife was hard to bear for Marisa Coulter and she was only three days into this new life, and she did it only for Lyra. Cooking food, bathing Lyra, and cleaning the house were now at the top of her daily routine which caused that she was every evening completely exhausted which forced her to go to bed early, while Asriel devoted himself to his research. 

Marisa was a little angry about that, but she couldn't tell Asriel what he had to do. At least he helped her with Lyra wherever he could because he didn't want to disappoint his sick servant who was still in the hospital.

Currently at the moment Marisa was reading in the living room of the house when she thought that there was another task waiting for her: the washing of the dirty laundry. So, she gets up from the couch, visibly just a little annoyed by her work, which was a bit more fun now than she really thought.

As a first measures she arms herself with a basket and went through her bedroom where she, with slow movements, collected the dirty laundry. When she was done with that, she left the room, then she goes to the end of the hallway and entered Lyra's room, which she had redesigned a bit to better take care of her daughter.

When Marisa starts to collect the dirty laundry, she hears a sleepy voice speak. "Mama," softly Lyra called for her.

"Yes, my darling," Marisa puts the basket away and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. In a whisper she asked, "do you have a wish?"

"Can you change my washcloth for my forehead, please."

Marisa nods, carefully, she takes the now warm washcloth from Lyra's forehead, puts it back in the bowl of cold water and grabs a freshly soaked one, which she placed on Lyra's forehead.

When the cool cloth hit Lyra’s hot, sweaty forehead, she winced and tried immediately to free herself from the covers.

"Shhhhhhh! .... Hush, stay calm, darling!" She moved closer to the girl. "Your covers stay where they are, soon it will be over.” Marisa takes Lyra's hand and squeezed it gently. With her other hand, she relentlessly pressed the washcloth on Lyra's forehead.

She herself fidgeted under the cold. Her head moved back and forth. Her handshake tightened and after a few excruciating moments for her, Marisa, her mother, let go of the washcloth.

"Lyra, do you have another wish?" Marisa asked once more, smoothing the covers.

"I wa... want to k.... kn... know mo... more a.... a... ab... about n.… na... nana, Stella, ma... mama."

"There's not much to tell," Marisa replied with a cold voice, "nothing important you need to know, darling." Marisa didn't feel like talking about her mother now, but Lyra didn't give up. 

“Pl... please mo.... momma,” Lyra said with a pout, “I ... I wo... would l... like to le... learn a s.... st... story a.... ab... about my n... nana.”

"I said no, Lyra." Marisa replied with a sickly-sweet voice. "I know surely believe that your nana will come to see you soon, dear. Then you can ask her what you want to know.”

Marisa pushes the covers back. Gently, she picks her daughter up, feeling immediately Lyra's pleasant body heat. She also breathed in her sweet scent. Old memories immediately came over her as she remembered Lyra's birth. On this special day she had smelled the same sweet smell for the first time when Lyra lay in her arms for the first time. It was so a special moment, very intimate between her and Lyra. For years she had tried to forget this, but now this memory puts a smile on Marisa's face.

Suddenly, she was quickly brought back to real life when the child started to tremble from the cold. Quickly, she goes to the small armchair across from the bed and carefully placed her daughter in the armchair. Then, Marisa reaches for a blanket and wraps Lyra tightly in it.

Pan snuggled up to Lyra and, to Lyra's surprise, her mother's daemon did the same. That surprised Marisa, she looks her daemon in the eye with a malicious look. "You little bastard," she whispered, going back to the bed.

Unfortunately, Lyra noticed that her mother was angry. She looks back at Oz who remained comfortably calm and watched his human half. Once more Lyra's gaze turned back to her mother who, with some anger in her stomach, begins to peel off the sweaty, sweet-smelling sheets.

"H.... h… how did R.... ro... roger die, m... mama?" Lyra asked out of nowhere.

Marisa in return looks at Lyra somewhat embarrassed. She walks slowly to the wardrobe, taking out new bed sheets, which she places on the bed. She thought for a moment, then she strolled over to Lyra, where she knelt down. 

"As I told you, my love. He didn't survive the trip to the north," Marisa said. Gently she squeezed her daughter's hand and closed her eyes. She was back in Bolvangar and briefly relived the suffering of little Parslow. It was clear to her that Roger didn't deserve it, but she had to sacrifice him to allow Lyra a good life. A life with her mother and her father. 

The girl would learn to appreciate that later. She was still deeply saddened by her loss.

"R... ro... roger didn't d.... des... deserve this, ma... mama," said Lyra from a mixture of sobbing and panting from exhaustion. "He w... was my b.... be... best fr... friend. At le... least he w... was the one-off a few p.... peo.... people th... that a.... acce... accepted me j.... ju... just …... like you."

"Mama knows that, my darling," replied Marisa. She knows exactly that poor Roger was like a brother to her daughter. Lyra thought so too, and it drove her so far that she began to cry, her breathing quickened so fast that she had to gasp for air.

Lyra...," Marisa puts both arms on her daughter's shoulders, "breathe in deeply (Marisa takes a breath together with Lyra) and breathe out again (Marisa breathes out with her)."

Lyra's mother repeated this two more times before she takes Lyra in her arms. Gently her hand slipped then through Lyra's hair, while she slowly rocked the girl. "Don't cry, my little star, mama has you safe in her arms." She intensifying her movements and it worked … she managed to get Lyra's excitement under control. 

The child’s breathing became more normal, the tears drained away and finally Lyra fell silent. Her arms wandered around her mother's neck and a feeling of security spread through Oz, who gently massaged Pan.

Lyra in turn, closed her eyes and listened to her mother's soft voice, which was whispering soothing words to her, that finally brought her to rest.

Marisa herself was satisfied at that moment. The love that Lyra showed her when she comforted her was like pure gold. She was also proud that the child had described her as one of the few people who accepted her the way she was.

With great satisfaction, Marisa realized that she had now taken another step to further bond Lyra to her as their relationship with each other continued to strengthen. Lyra begins to trust her mother more, but Marisa herself knows that the little girl could still see through her games that she liked to play with others. Lyra was six years old and small, but not stupid.

At the moment Marisa knows she had Lyra on her side. She didn't seem to care anymore what had happened back in London, she just wanted to be with her parents. This development that Lyra made with this claim made Marisa's life a lot easier. She could now continue to take care of her daughter completely relaxed.

"Let's get you ready for bed,” she announced, placing Lyra back in her armchair and going back to the bed. Next, very skillfully, she covered the covers and pillows with fresh sheets. Then carefully, she shakes out the pillows and placed them on the top of the bed, while the covers remained on the floor.

Afterwards, Marisa walks back to Lyra. She takes the girl in her arms and carrying her to the bed, where she laid the child down. Next, she takes the covers, shakes them out again, and then spread the covers over her daughter. Then it rained a few loving kisses for Lyra before her mother moves away from her and picks up her basket. Quietly, she leaves the room as her daughter slowly drifted back to sleep.

Marisa then stopped in front of the door and let a bitterly sigh escape, she could see her safe, where she kept the alethiometer. It had been a blessing that Lyra hadn't asked for the cursed compass after the Roger incident. Also, she was still unsure if she should just bury the alethiometer once for all or if Asriel had plans for it.

In any case, that damned instrument had a great deal of power over the little family's life. That became clearer and clearer to Marisa as she went down the stairs into the cool basement of the house, where the washing machine had found its place.

When she finally entered the basement, her worries about her daughter vanished for the moment. Marisa preferred to put the laundry in the washing machine, which was relatively easy, but then the problems started.

First of all, the woman wondered how to use a washing machine. In her life she never had to do the laundry herself because she had her servants for that, so she grabbed the manual, which was placed on the top of the machine and walks back into the living room, where she takes a seat on the couch.

Now carefully, Marisa studied the operating instructions with a glass of wine in front of her. After a few minutes she realized that the handling of the machine was not as easy as she thought, but self-assured as she was, the complicated instructions did not unsettle her.

Back in the basement, Marisa switches on the machine and selected a program. "Please, do me a favor and wash my laundry," she said pleadingly. "Please, I beg you." She presses the start button, and something happened. She cheered with joy but after a few moments nothing more happened.

“You goddamn machine," Marisa shouted softly at the machine. "With great certainty, I know that my mother bribed you."

Marisa hit the machine angrily with her hand. She was foaming with rage, but her daemon held the old lady's note in front of her face. Marisa could see a phone number one it so quickly she switched off the device and runs hastily to the phone.

The call itself was quick and short. The old lady promised to come right away to solve the problem and to teach Marisa a few things a real housewife would need.

* * *

* * *

The doorbell rang and Marisa immediately assumed that it was the old lady, and her assumption was correct.

"I am so glad that you are here," Marisa said quietly with a bowed head. "I can't do this without your help, madam."

Marisa’s behave revealed all too well her puny and sad suffering of the last days. The old lady, however, didn't care about that and preferred to try to give the young mother comfort. 

"What are friends for, Marisa? When I'm done with you, you'll be a real housewife. Your mother, Stella, can be proud of you."

“Huh? Marisa looks at the old lady in a somewhat bewildered way. How could the old lady know what her mother's name was? She really had to have connections to know that, Marisa assumed. The distrust however grew between the two, but Marisa tried to stay calm. “I am sure that my delightful mother will be proud of me," she said with a fake smile, "please, come inside."

The woman nodded and entered. Marisa helps her to take off her long fur coat and hung it up on a hook. Then both women went into the cool basement, but It took them a few minutes to reach the basement. The woman was old and so she was slow too.

Once there, Marisa immediately played the courtesy card, "may I offer you something to sit on, madam. I don't think you'll be able to stand for long."

"No, dear, don't bother," the woman replied kindly. "I think we should get started."

With calm and experience the old lady guided the young mother for the next few hours. She not only taught Marisa how to do laundry but also, as promised, taught her household science.

In the evening when they were finished, Marisa was indeed very grateful for having received these lessons from her.

* * *

* * *

Lord Asriel came home from his little trip into the wilderness of the Icy cold Lands of the north. He was in a bad mood and completely frozen. The only thing he wanted to see now was his daughter and his lover, so first he takes off his coat and his shoes, then he went into the living room.

"Marisa, my darling, I am back home," he said with the happiest voice he had in store at the moment , but when he saw the old Lady sitting in his armchair, his day was completely over. He had forbidden Marisa to let visitors into the house, only Mary and a young girl, who helped to take care of Lyra in the last two days, where allowed to enter the house.

That was exactly what excited him. The look on his face changed, his smile disappeared, and anger spread across his body. Marisa hurriedly approached him, feeling that something was wrong as she tried to tame the angry papa bear.

"Good evening, honey, please go into the kitchen. Your dinner is waiting for you," Marisa spoke with a smile on her face, but her friendly greeting couldn't prevent that Asriel exchanged a disgusted look with the old lady.

Marisa gritted her teeth, she whispered again, "Asriel, your food is getting cold."

"I don't care!"

"You're going to eat now," Marisa replied and pushed Asriel with all her strength into the kitchen to prevent an argument with the old woman. "Your dinner is ready for you in the microwave. Bon appetite darling." she continued and vanished back into the living room.

"This woman ..." Asriel spoke annoyed, putting his backpack on the table. 

First, he takes out his notes, which he puts on the table, then he heats up his dinner and also gently placed it on the table. Asriel starts to eat, but his eyes still wandered into the living room and together with Stelmaria he watched the old woman suspiciously.

This goes on until he has finished eating, then he completely shifts his gaze to the living room.

"This woman seems so strange to me," Asriel said to his daemon.

"I agree Asriel. She's hiding something, I can feel it," Stelmaria replied, stalking up and down in front of Asriel's chair. She was on high alert, she would defend Lyra, Asriel and Marisa by all means until her death. Asriel knew that too, but he was careful first.

"Easy girl," he said reassuringly to her, caressing her fur with his left right. 

Stelmaria slowly relaxed, her bristling fur softened, and she slowly lets herself fall to the ground where she stretched out. That gave Asriel some time to observe the old lady more closely. He analyzed her dealings with Marisa while the two talked quietly. The old woman gossiped and giggled with Marisa as if they were old friends, which made Asriel more and more suspicious until he couldn't take it anymore.

"I'll take a look at the old lady."

Asriel rose from his chair and Stelmaria followed him to the couch, where he takes a seat next to Marisa, crossed his arms and looks at the old lady. The more he looked at her, his gaze turned into an angry grimace.

“What do you want from us?" Asriel asked pejorative. "Is it money.... It doesn't matter anyway you strange old woman. Get out of my house or I swear to god you are a dead woman!”

"Calmly, darling," Marisa blushed, trying to defuse the situation. "She was just trying to help me. The old woman was good to me."

Marisa's hand caressed Asriel's hand gently, however Asriel opened his mouth and wanted to speak, but the old lady made a gesture and he remained silent.

"Asriel James Belacqua, I am very disappointed in you," she says with an annoyed voice and the matching facial expression. "I thought you would have changed when little Lyra came back into your life.”

"Well listen, you'll get to know us soon," Marisa spoke foaming with anger. It was enough for her. She wanted answers so she got up and pointed at the old woman, "you help me for no reason. You don't ask for anything and that makes me suspicious. Just tell us who you really are!"

"You know who I am, my child," the old woman replied calmly. A thunderclap shakes the house suddenly and the old woman started to giggle, "Isa, you must know that your mother often prayed to me when she was overwhelmed with you and your siblings.”

"My mother is not the type for something like this," Marisa spat maliciously, "I am sure of that because I know her too well. You're lying in my face."

"I agree," Asriel said to Marisa. "Old woman, you have real problems now, when we're done with you, there is nothing left of you, I promise."

Marisa exchanged a look with Asriel, who clenched his fists. Their daemons came to their side and hissed aggressively. They wanted to act when suddenly a golden light flooded the room for a moment and a young woman appeared instead of the old lady.

This woman, a goddess, was beaming with beauty. She was tall, taller than Asriel himself. Her hair was long and of a beautiful black color. She was wearing a long white summer dress together with a colorful peacock cape. In her right hand she held a golden lotus stick. A beautiful golden tiara was enthroned on her head.

“Mama's stories were true, I cannot believe it.”

Marisa and Asriel both shake their heads in disbelief. Were they drunk or was there really a goddess in front of them?

“You are right my child, your mother never lied to you and your siblings in such matters, but let's get down to business. Your way of becoming a family will be long Marisa Coulter. You will have to do a lot to achieve this, besides, you will not like some things, but I am sure you will be able to overcome yourself. 

“What does it all mean, exactly?” Marisa asked, confused.

“No more questions, but always remember, my love, that only the love for your child can save your life. Do not deceive her and you will find true happiness. And Isa … Do not disappoint me! We'll meet again soon."

A thunderclap sounded and the spook was over and the goddess was gone.


	8. Now That I've Found You...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, added aditional dialogue + additional new scene ( at the beginning) , cutting a frew sentences

John and Stella Delamare stood in a barn in Bolungarvík, stunned. It was dark, but they could see that there were two other people present. One was captain Björn, who was tied to a chair and the other person, a woman, was Margaret Delamare, Marisa Coulter’s older sister.

"Hello mother, surprised to see me?" Margaret asked with a smirk.

"In fact, I never would have expected that," replied Stella with a smirk. She passes the horse stables and stops a few yards from the chair in the middle of the barn, giving her daughter a quick hug before she shifts her attention to, "Bjorn Karlsson, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other," Stella said with a chuckle. "Where is my daughter?"

"I haven't seen her for a long time," Björn replied, "you crazy fucking bitch!" With a despicable grin, he tilted his head forward and, deliberately and without remorse, spat Stella in the face. She immediately took a step back, groaning. With her hand she wipes the disgusting body fluid from her face. 

"Björn,” Margaret steps in for her mother, “Your former first mate told me a completely different story in a sensual conversation between two friends."

“The asshole has never been able to resist a beautiful woman," Björn replied chuckling. "He could have any woman in the world, but of all people he has to fuck a Delamare whore."

"You bloody bastard!!" 

Margaret flushed with anger. She punches him several times with her first hard in his face, which forced Björn's nose to break and his head to ache with pain as blood was running down his cheeks. In addition, moments later he received a few blows with the palm by Stella, who at the same time gave her daemon a signal. 

It chased forward, grabbed the captain's daemon roughly and once again showed the dreadful and sadistic side of the young grandmother as he was torturing the daemon. He hit him hard, he pressed him on the cold, straw-covered floor and made him suffer with the greatest joy. Björn, could only watch and suffer the same pain as his daemon. 

“Come on, you bastard,” Margaret yelled suddenly, “tell me, where is my younger sister?"

Much to her displeasure, Björn Karlsson remained silent. With a bloody grin, he mocked the two Delamare ladies, so both were forced to bring out the big guns to find out what they wanted to know. 

"Björn … what do you say if we pay a visit to your wife and your children in London." Margaret said with a giggle, walking slowly behind him. She lowers her head close to his ear while Björn swallowed and a cold shiver was running down his back. "Yes, we know about them,” she whispers, “It would be a shame if my mother's staff had to pay them a visit."

The Delamares did what they promised. They were merciless and were never in a joking mood in such matters so Björn asked with a trembling voice, “when I tell you exactly where your sister left the ship, what's in it for me?"

It was a desperate attempt to save his life and the Delamares knew that too well. Stella herself approaches him, crossing her arms. She spoke annoyed with a contemptuous voice, "you little greedy soul, you will only get away with your life and now start talking!"

Without hesitation, Björn takes his chance. Telling the Delamares on the one hand that Thorold had rented his ship and on the other hand everything about his little conversation with Asriel. At the end he described where exactly the little family landed in Bornholm.

"That's enough,” said John Delamare, who had only seen the situation so far. He cuts Björn's fetters who starts quickly to run away, but he didn't get far. John drew his gun and shot Asriel's old friend a few times in the back with no regrets. “What a disgusting asshole,” he noted, “just seeing him makes me sick."

“Fox, I never could stand him either,” Stella said, shooting the dead body in the head. 

Margaret, standing next to her, pushes the armed arm of her mother down, “Mother he's already dead! I don’t want the cops around!”

“I am the cops!” Stella yelled, firing the whole magazine of her Sig Sauer P226 in the body. “I can do whatever I want!” She withdrew the barrel, ejected the magazine, and inserted a new one into the weapon. Then Stella took aimed again with the gun, but her husband, standing beside her, puts his hand on her fingers.

“Stella, my darling, please, that's enough!” He secured the gun and put it back in its holster. Then he took his wife, who had completely lost control, in his arms. “I know you're angry, but that won't get us to Lyra any faster, either. So, I suggest you go to our room, in our airship, and take a rest.”

“I'll go,” she agreed with a nod and took her daemon's hand, then she disappeared from the barn, leaving father and daughter alone.

* * *

* * *

The next morning, Stella Delamare was on her way to Bornholm, wondering too where her daughter was hiding. In her mind she searched all the places she had visited with little Marisa, but she could not come up with a meaningful logical conclusion. It gets on her nerves and her daughter feels it. At least she has an idea.

“Trollesund"

"Nonsense Margaret," Stella performs a meaningful gesture. “We would suspect that right away, it's too easy.”

Margaret nods in agreement, knowing that her sister was smart, but Trollesund had been the only logical solution for her. It would make no sense for her to hide outside of Trollesund. There were only the large ice deserts with a few isolated small villages.

Margaret's father had watched them both calmly as his hand kept slipping through his daemon's fur. It just helped him to think, about problems he had, and these weren't exactly a few, but John was a smart guy. It made sense for him to hide somewhere near Trollesund. There was everything you needed to survive, his children knew that. 

After all, he had taught them to find their way around the north and to survive there successfully. Marisa herself had been his best student. She knows every location of a Delamare house from memory.

“So, there are four possibilities where Marisa could hide, my beloved daughter," John said instructively to his daughter, "Varberg, Gränna, Grisslehamn and Sigtuna."

"Too big father and too obvious." 

Margaret reaches into her backpack, pulling out a map that showed the full beauty of the north. She puts the map on the table in front of her father, then she pointed to another location of the last Delamare house in the north. 

"Marstrand!"

"Nonsense!"

John Delamare made the same dismissive gesture as his wife and, lost in thought, he leaned back again. He could see now that his wife was slowly walking to the window, leaning her head against the glass of the window too.

"Why was I so stupid?” she asked herself in a whisper.

Her daemon comes to her side, taking his place on the windowsill. Slowly, Stella's delicate hand slides into his hand and for a short time she squeezes his hand, but the pressure is not comfortable for him. It was more of a punishment and actually he didn't know why or what she was punishing him for. It could also be that she was punishing herself with it.

Then the room fell silent, a couple of minutes passed.

John Delamare, who had built up some anger, spoke with an angry voice to his daughter, "where else could she be, Margaret. Come on, tell me if you're so clever. There's only these four … fucking … places."

"Oh daddy," his daughter looks at him with a grin, "why don't you call every resident and ask them politely if someone has seen lovely Marisa." 

Margaret picks up the phone and too the displeasure of her father, she gives her worst imitation she ever had shown. That was too much for her father, angry at his daughter, he gets up and slapped her face. The blow was so hard that it threw Margaret backwards on the ground.

"You little spoiled brat," John yelled at her, reflecting a little on his own life. "I'm starting to regret that I not raised you harder."

"Enough," Stella hit the windowsill with her fist. There was a dull noise that made Margaret tremble with fear, expecting that her mother would scold her. But she turned and slowly strolled towards her, examing her daughter's bleeding nose. "Hold still, my love,” said Stella in a soft, sweet voice. "Mama will take a look at that."

However, Margaret grabs her mother's hand and pressed it tightly against her flushed, sore cheek. In tears she tried to apologize, "I'm sorry, mama. I didn't mean to tease daddy."

Stella shakes her head with a reassuring smile and replied, “hush, darling. Let mama wipe the blood off your face first," Stella takes out a scented handkerchief and begins to wipe the blood off her daughter's face. She pushes in the process Margaret's head forward a little as she lets the handkerchief slide gently over her daughter’s face.

A few moments passed until Margaret's face was clean again, then the next low blow followed. "I have to admit that,” said Stella with a giggle and scoffed, "you really are a silly little girl."

"I'm not a silly girl, mama," Margaret replied in a low voice, knowing that her mother always liked to mock, but this time it wasn't just fun. 

The devilish smile showed that her mother was not kidding at that moment. Her father had the same expression on his face, he slowly stepped to his wife's side and knelt next to her. 

“You are one and you know it honey," he said giggling to his daughter as his expression darkened. "At least you're not a disappointment or am I wrong?"

Her father's gaze turned to her daemons. Timber, Margaret’s daemon, cuddled with her father's daemon, Athena. Her mother's daemon, who was sitting on the windowsill, also looks in Timbers' direction. Margaret realized that one wrong answer or further rebellion against her parents would have dire consequences.

"I'm a silly girl" she said to please her parents with a forced and compulsive smile. She said it with such conviction that she would have believed it herself. Her mother, still kneeling beside her, nods satisfied and Margaret herself knows only too well that if she presented herself as pitifully as possible, her mother would treat her lovingly like now.

"Come to mama," Stella spoke smiling.

Slowly, Margaret crawled into her mother's open arms on all fours. She snuggled up to her chest where she started to cry.

"Everything is fine, Margaret," said Stella, gently massaging Margaret's hair. "Mommy has you in her arms." 

Stella silenced her, tightening her embrace as she entrusted her daughter with her next assignment. And because Margaret is also a dear daughter, she was allowed to stay a few minutes longer in the safe arms of her mother until her mother herself broke away from her.

Her eyes went back to her husband. She spoke devilish smiling, “Our daughter is hiding in Askersund, Fox.”

* * *

Four days later / Askersund, 20 Kilometers away from Trollesund

* * *

John parked the car inconspicuously farther from Marisa's house. He switched off the engine and gets out of the warm car with his wife. But after a few steps they both noticed that it was bitterly cold, snow fell on their car and they shivered as they take their suitcases out of the trunk.

Stella herself closed the trunk again and they marched off. 

Slowly they passed the muddy streets of Askersund until they reached the sparsely populated end of town where both turned sharply left into the hidden driveway to Marisa's house. As they walked up the driveway, both of them became slightly absorbed in a conversation.

"My men have been watching the house for three days," informed John his wife. "We know Marisa's daily routine very well."

His wife was less interested in the second part of his statement, "I don't care what she does, Fox." She replied annoyed. The real question was, "is Lyra home alone?"

"She's alone, darling, otherwise we wouldn't be taking a relaxed stroll up the driveway now."

"How stupid of me to think that,” Stella replied with a giggle, slapping her husband on the shoulder. "Somebody has to take care of our little Lyra?"

John shrugged, "just her fifteen-year-old babysitter.”

"Good to know, honey," Stella spoke with a smile on her face, nodding slightly surprised.

Both know that Marisa would not easily take her eyes off Lyra. She should feel very safe if she left the girl alone at home. Certainly, so Stella thought, her daughter was somewhere in the area, therefore, both remained very vigilant, taking a closer look at every little thing but they found not a single sign of Marisa or Asriel.

Therefore, their steps became faster and they reached the door of the house moments later. Stella rang the doorbell. It took a few moments until the door opened and the fifteen-year-old black-haired girl appeared. She was indeed a little confused to see the two adults.

"Hello, I wish you a good day," she said politely and asked, "How can I help you?”

“Hello, dear, I wish you a good day too.” Stella replied with a smirk. “I'm Lyra's grandmother and Mrs. Delamare, my daughter, notified me to take care of granddaughter Lyra while she is away."

The girl reacted somewhat horrified, getting nervous as well as Stella was slowly getting impatient.

"Have you lost your language?" She asked annoyed. "I can show you my ID card if you want."

"I'm sorry madam, the problem is that I can't let anyone in," the girl said excitedly to her. "Mrs. Delamare had forbidden me to let strangers into the house! Goodbye!”

The girl tries to close the door, but John Delamare had something against it. "This is still my wife’s house, you little brat.” He puts his foot between the door and the door frame and Stella pressed lightly against the door. Together they managed to push the door and the girl back easily. Then both entered the house and take off their coats, while the girl watched them deeply shocked. 

Moments later, Stella came to her at a slow pace. The heels of her high heeled boots clicked on the floor and the girl tried to stay calm. But she trembled with fear when Stella stood before her with her full height and arms crossed.

"Is Lyra upstairs?" She asked.

"Yes madam," replied the girl very softly.

Stella wasn't satisfied with this answer, she replied maliciously. "When you talk to me, you will look me in my eyes, you little brat. I also have a nobility title called Lady and with that you address me submissively. So, all over again: I ask you where my grandchild is, dear?"

The girl sobbed, "Lyra is upstairs, sleeping in her room, Lady Delamare."

"Well, you see, it wasn't that difficult," noted John. He takes a step closer as he puts one hand in his pocket and takes out some money. "You don't tell anyone a word about today's events. You will be a good girl and go home now. I never want to see you here again, did I make myself clear?"

“Yes, Lord Delamare!” 

Shivering and frightened, the girl quickly gathered her things and made her way home as fast as she could. John and Stella, with a smile on her face, watched the girl for a moment, who now runs down the driveway before they closed the door and parted ways. John walks into the living room while his wife went to Lyra.

The way to Lyra felt like an eternity for Stella. Already on the stairs she felt a strange tension, which only subsided when she stood in front of Lyra's door. Now she had reached her destination, her beloved granddaughter was only one door away. Stella thought once more about what she had done, what cruel things she had to do to find little Lyra.

Once more she smoothed out her black skirt, buttoned her white blouse and corrected her somewhat messy hairstyle, then she entered the room quietly and immediately smelled the not pleasant smell of the bed sheets, which made her to turn her face away in disgust again.

"We definitely have to change that," she noted, slowly getting closer to the bed. Even though it was dark, she saw Lyra through her blue eyes that Lyra's eyes were still closed. She was restlessly sleeping, and she was sweating profusely too.

"Lyra?" Stella asked softly, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Hmm,” slowly, Lyra opens her sleepy little eyes. It was dark in the room, she could hardly see anything, but the voice she heard seemed familiar. “M... mo... mommy?" she asked with a sleepy voice.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, sweetie. I'm not your mommy,” Stella replied softly to her granddaughter in a motherly tone, turning on the little lamp. With a big smile she looks into her granddaughter's face, "do you recognize me?"

Lyra widened her sleepy eyes, "I'm s.... s... sor... sorry, madam, I ... do… don't r... re... reco... recognize y.... y... you."

Stella sighed a little annoyed, but she was not surprised. It had been a while since she last saw Lyra. "I am your grandmother, Lyra Louisa,” she explained, “I used to visit you at Jordan College.”

Lyra shakes her head. She sat up a little and looks directly into the strange woman's eyes. Now she recognized her, "y... you're my fat... father's f.... fr... frie... friend who w... was su... supp... supposed to wa... watch ov... over me. You are lying to me!"

Stella blushed, “accusing myself of a lie is not polite, honey," she said a little viciously. "I am your grandmother whether you like it or not!” But she tried not to take out her pent-up anger on Lyra. So, Stella tried another way to make Lyra understand that she wasn't lying: "you stay here please, I'll be right back, honey."

Stella gets up from the bed and walks out of the room down the hall until she reached the stairs. Arrived there she called for her husband, who shows up a few moments later.

"What can I do for the lady of my heart?" John asked, smirking, with some sarcasm in his voice.

"Bring me the pictures, honey. Lyra doesn't believe me!”

"All right!” John disappeared back into the living room, where he picks up his wife's small suitcase, carried it to the small table and carefully set it down there. Next, he opened the suitcase and searched it until he found the small green envelope in which Stella kept the said pictures.

“They remove all doubts, Athena,” John said to his daemon. He closed the suitcase and walked up the stairs to the first floor, down the hall until he reaches Lyra’s room, which he enters with quick steps, then he places the envelope in Stella’s open hands.

"Thank you honey," Stella said, carefully taking the pictures out of the envelope, and rearranging them, before she held up the first picture that showed Stella in her study with a younger Marisa. The next one showed a two-year-old Lyra with two young men and another woman.

"W.... w... who is t... t... this?" Lyra asked, pointing to the young people one by one.

"These are your two uncles along with your aunt, I'll introduce them to you one by one." Stella replied, handing the photo to Lyra before she explains, "Your uncle Marcel is my youngest son and your mother's twin brother. He is to the left of your aunt Margaret, the twin sister of your uncle Matthew, who is to the right of your aunt."

"Okay!" The girl replied and passed the picture back to Stella. 

She in return showed her granddaughter another picture that showed Lyra as she was cuddling with Stella as a toddler. They both smiled happily at the camera and sat in Lyra's room at Jordan College. Lyra herself wore a sweater with the inscription, "I love my Nana.” The very last picture Lyra got to see showed the two of them standing in front of a big house, the Delamare estate.

Lyra's eyes widened as she takes this last photo in her hands. She could hardly believe what she had seen in the last few minutes, the pictures showed her different life. A life that she was happy with, but she just couldn't remember it and the pictures told her that the woman hadn't lied.

"Nana!" Lyra said to the pretty lady with a bright smile.

Stella nodded happily, exchanging a brief look with her husband, who was smiling too. Then her gaze turned back to Lyra and she held out her hand, which slowly slipped into Lyra's hand. Immediately she felt that the child was a depressed despite the happiness she felt.

"Lyra, you still want to tell me something," Stella made clear to her and asked, "what's bothering you, sweetie?"

"W.... w... why did you l.... lie to me a... a... all the t.... ti... time?" Lyra said somewhat sadly, averting her eyes. The disappointment was clearly visible.

"Lyra ..." Her grandfather takes a seat by her side on the bed, his two big hands grabbed her, and Lyra was gently lifted onto his lap. He spoke, "you must know that we had no choice, the master of the Jordan College, Dr Carne, did not allow us to tell you the truth."

“I believe you about that," Lyra replied knowingly, asking her grandparents moments later, "but why does a picture show me in front of our house?”

“It's simply explained, darling," said her grandmother to her, squeezing her hand. "When you were just two years old you became seriously ill and the college allowed us to take you in for that time. This was the only time you were at home."

The fact that they were never allowed to bring Lyra home made both grandparents very angry and bitter. In her opinion, Lyra was denied the right to grow up with her family. The Master of Jordan College was always able to prevent it without Lyra's father noticed it. 

Not only John and Stella felt cheated of their rights, but also Lyra felt the same way. To hear that someone had tried to give her a home, but was refused, made Lyra very sad … (Her unimagined anger continued to grow) …. Her childhood at Jordan College had been wonderful at first sight, but the college was never able to prevent Lyra from falling victim to nasty bullying attacks. She always told her educators that she was bullied. The help she needed was always promised, but never fulfilled.

That anger Lyra harbored against college was now, discharging. She jumped off her grandfather's lap, goes to the wardrobe and angrily threw the carefully sorted clothes out of the wardrobe. 

Lyra cried as she lets out her anger. Everything that had accumulated came to light. It showed how much she was hurt and broken inside.

"Lyra, please stop, you will hurt yourself." Stella begged, getting up from the bed. She makes quick steps to reach the raging girl and grabs her from behind. Her grip itself was tight as she pulls Lyra to the floor with her, but the child tries to free herself. Her arms and legs wriggle desperately and keep hitting the ground. Her grandma grabs her by the arms while her grandpa presses her legs on the floor.

“Lyra …. Louisa, everything is fine,” said Stella, desperately trying to calm the ragging child. “Now, please, stop fighting me, I don't want to harm you."

Lyra defends herself once more time with all the strength she has left, but her grandmother's grip becomes even tighter. She brings Lyra's arms together and holds it with one hand while caressing Lyra with the other hand.

"Shhhhhhh …" Stella whispers, "Hush, look at me …. Shhhhhhh … Take a deep breath, calm down and relax yourself, honey. Everything will be fine again, I promise."

Slowly, Stella glides with her palms over Lyra's warm forehead, then over her flushed, warm cheeks. After a few minutes, Lyra has finally calmed down, to the delight of her grandparents. Both could now loosen their tight grip.

"Come to Grandma," says Stella with a sigh as she gently pulls Lyra into a hug. She kisses her lovingly and caresses her back as she slowly gets back onto her feet. Then, when she was standing again, she reaches under Lyra's arms and picks her up. For the first time now, she feels Lyra's warmth and breathes in her sweet scent, which she inexplicably likes now.

She walks to the bed, where she and her daemon laid the girl and her daemon on the bed at the same time. Then Stella takes a seat on the bed, takes off her boots and lies down on the bed. Afterwards, she pulls the covers over herself and Lyra who snuggles up to her, while her grandfather carefully lies down on the other side of the bed.

Immediately Lyra starts to cry, seeking consolation. Stella is only too happy to give it. She talks to her and says that everything will be fine in the end. Whenever Lyra needed anything, she would be there for her.

* * *

* * *

Softly she hums a tune that she sang to her children, especially when they were toddlers. After a few minutes, Lyra falls asleep calmly in her grandmother's arms.

When Marisa and Asriel returned home from their little research trip, the blizzard was still relentless. It was storming as violently as Marisa nor Asriel had never seen it before. Their hands were ice cold despite her thick gloves, which of course made unlocking the door a bit problematic, but with a little patience, both could enter the house moments later.

Everything was as usual in the last few days, but when Marisa walks into the living room with a glass of wine in hands, she lets it fall in fear.

"Mother!"

"Marisa, it's lovely to see you!” Her mother greeted with a big smile on her face. She gently shifts the sleeping Lyra onto her lap before she once more made sure that the blanket itself was tightly wrapped around the child. Then she takes Lyra's cuddly toy and puts it in the hands of the girl, who immediately pressed it tight to her chest, moaning contentedly.

Stella in return kissed her, "my little angel." She says, moving her attention back to Marisa, who was now standing next to an angry Asriel, "don't be afraid. The magisterium isn't after you," Stella spoke to reassure Lyra's parents. "I'm here to help you."

"You are here to help, Stella?" Asriel thundered at the woman. The expression on his face darkened as his fists clenched. Marisa holds him back.

"What do you really want, mother?" asked Marisa with a sign.

“Take a seat on the couch, my beloved daughter, and I'll tell you," Stella replied calmly at first, then her expression darkened too. "If you don't do what I ask, your two brothers will storm this house and knock you down with the greatest pleasure and you will never ever see Lyra again."

This threat only became clearer when a small red dot suddenly appeared on Asriel's chest. Both, Asriel and Marisa, saw no choice now, but to follow the instructions and sat on the couch. To make matters worse, Marisa's sister showed up too without saying a word as she walks to her mother.

"Put her in bed, Margaret. She needs to rest,” Stella said in a whisper, passing Lyra into her aunt's arms.

"Yes, mother, I'll stay with her until this is all settled," Margaret replied to her mother before she leaves the room.

Then the room fell silent for a few moments, you could literally feel the tension. There was a certain malice in the room that was emanating from those present. Asriel, in particular, staring at Lyra's grandfather, was certainly already planning an act of revenge. Marisa was a little more relaxed. She looks at her mother, who sat silently in her chair. She had nothing to fear and drinks a glass of the best red wine too.

"Mother, please, don't torture me with your looks of malice," Marisa says annoyed to her, crossing her arms. "Just say what you want."

"Isa, you haven't changed," Stella replied with a giggle. She cheerfully laughed loudly and mocked her daughter, "One of your best jokes, Isa."

After a few more moments she had caught herself, but she still glowed with malice. "So, after some things had come to light, Lyra must be accepted in the eyes of the Church," Stella told Lyra's parents, taking a sip of wine. "I want to be by your side as a grandmother to achieve this goal."

"What do you want in return, mother?" 

"It's a minor thing," Stella's grin widened as she played with her perfect fingernails. “Give me my grandchild, Lyra Louisa, to foster. Then I can arrange a meeting with the cardinal in Geneva for you."

Asriel struck with his fist at the table, "she stays with her parents." 

"Well then, I'll go now and tell the Magisterium that two special people are in my custody in Askersund.” Noted Stella.

She gets up from her chair. Then she walks to and picks up the phone, but Marisa suddenly rushes over to her and takes her hand, squeezes it gently and says in despair with fear, "No, please, I beg you! Don't do that, mama. Just give me a few minutes, please."

Marisa knows that with the help of her mother, she could achieve her goal. Therefore, she turns to Asriel and takes his hand in her delicate, cold hands. "Asriel, please, listen to me. Remember what the goddess said to us," spoke Marisa softly and continued, "we must take this chance, even if we don't like it."

Angrily Asriel pulled his hand away, “Marisa she is the devil, and your father is even worse.”

"Maybe they are, but they are our only help to keep Lyra," Marisa yells at him. "I will raise our daughter with or without your help."

These words prompted Asriel to better think about his decision one more time. He exchanged a look with Stelmaria, silently discussing what’s the best for Lyra is. Asriel also felt the need to raise her without the influence of the Magisterium.

He struggled with himself. He got up excitedly from his seat and stalks up and down with his hands in his pockets. Marisa watched him curiously just like her parents, who whispered quietly and exchanged a few thoughts.

It was certainly not easy to put their fate in the other's hands. They had to trust each other but so far, they have yet to learn to trust each other.

After a few more minutes, Asriel agreed. Marisa, who was extremely tense, lets out a releasing sigh. She was glad Asriel had changed his mind.

* * *

* * *

The evening passed calmly. Margaret returned to the airship with her brothers, while the rest of the family had dinner together. The mood among each other was visibly more relaxed too. Asriel, however, acted a bit grumpy as always, but Marisa was able to clear it up.

After dinner, Marisa withdrew with her mother. Both talked a little about Lyra, clarifying in the conversation that it was important for Marisa that her daughter did not notice the coming change in the status quo.

Stella in return promised her own daughter that she would do what she asked for. Marisa would also never ever have to worry about Lyra, while she was away. The child was safe in the hands of the Delamare family.

At the end of the conversation, Marisa gave her mother Lyra's cuddly toy and beloved bottle. Lyra should always have both things with her, she should always remember that she had a mother who loved her.

Then after the conversation the family went to sleep. The night itself, however, was restless for Marisa and Asriel. Both could not sleep, even though they tried to comfort each other. 

Both struggled with the compromise.

Marisa struggled in particular that she had to leave Lyra alone. Her child needed her mother most of the time, which she knew all too well. But she had to go away to secure Lyra's future. Asriel struggled with not protecting Lyra enough from Marisa's family. He blamed himself, feeling just angry with the Delamare family. Especially, Stella’s threats against him and Marisa were in fact extortion. 

Nonetheless, Asriel had to put up with giving his daughter into Stella's open arms for the time being. He had to adapt and make the best of the situation. 

At around three in the morning, they finally managed to fall asleep completely exhausted.

Another three hours passed before Lyra's grandparents woke up. As soon as possible they got ready for their trip back to their airship. Then they parted ways, while Stella made coffee and prepared a small meal for the long drive to the airship, her husband gets their granddaughter out of bed.

"Lyra, wake up," John says softly to his granddaughter, carefully pushing the covers aside and pulling her off the bed into a sitting position.  
Lyra herself was barely aware of what was going on now. Her clothes changed in the blink of an eye. Suddenly she was wearing her warm travel clothes instead of pajamas.

"Come here, my little monkey. It's time to have breakfast," John holds out his hand and nods to Lyra with a smile. She in return takes his hand sleepily and is led downstairs to the kitchen by her grandpa, where her grandma takes over. Calmly and with a little patience she feeds Lyra with food that she has mixed with a soporific.

Lyra's grandpa then puts the dirty dishes in the sink while her grandma helped Lyra to put on her scarf, jacket, and hat. Then Stella disappeared briefly and reached in the living room for the suitcases that she gave to her husband, who stowed them in the trunk of the car.

Lyra was almost asleep when her grandmother returned to her. She takes her in her arms, carried her outside and puts the girl into the back of the car, buckling the girl up tightly too.

"We're going home," Stella whispered to her and gave Lyra a kiss. "The trip to our airship takes a little longer, a maximum of ninety minutes. You won't notice anything, just close your eyes. I wish you a pleasant sleep together with sweet dreams, my bunny."

Quietly, Stella closed the door and got into the front of the car with her husband. Afterwards they make their way back to their airship.

* * *

* * *

When Lyra woke up again, she was lying on a large soft bed in a large room. She was tired and the medication she was taking had just a little effect. Her fever was still high and the nausea together with sore throat made life difficult for her.

Slowly as her senses came back, she could hear the sound of engines. "P... Pan, w.... wh... where a... a... are we?" Lyra asked, pulling the covers tighter around her.

"I don't know, but a glance out of the window will tell us!" Pantalaimon replied, quickly transforming into a small house cat, and dragging himself onto the windowsill with the little strength he had left. With wide eyes he realized now that they were in an airship over the European Arctic Ocean. "Lyra .... we are on our way back to Brytain," Pan called weakly to her.

Lyra turned in his direction, "b... but ma... mama s.... s... sa... said she di... didn't wa... want to go ba... back f.... f... for a while. I do... don't u.... und... understand this.”

"Maybe your grandmother changed her mind,” Pantalaimon replied, returning to the floor before he jumps back on the bed with his last ounce of strength, where he exhausted takes his place next to Lyra's head.

Lyra herself turned to him and pulls him closer with one arm. In return he sat up a little and licked Lyra's cheek with his tongue.

"Stop it, " she said, with a chuckle. But he didn't obey her and continued until she pushed him away.

"Come on Lyra, you like that," Pantalaimon said a little sadly. He just wanted to cheer her up a little.

However, Lyra looks at the clock on the bedside table opposite and realized that it was past noon. “N... not a... ag... again," she said annoyed and lets herself fall back on the soft pillow.

She snuggles into her covers. Despite the fact that she was sweating, the sheets were still dry. The smell and quality were familiar, so she pulls the covers up to her nose and inhaled the scent, which was strangely familiar.

"T.... th... that's na... nana's pe... perf... perfume," she said, giggling, amazed at the same time. "I'm ly... lying in h.... h... her be... bed. Pan I .... I ..."

Suddenly she heard a noise from the door, more preciously a daemon had been watching both. 

Quickly Lyra pushed away the covers and stood up from the bed. Curiosity drove her on and she slowly dragged herself to the door and stepped out into the hallway. She could now see other doors, but they were all closed. 

Next, Lyra looks at the beginning of the hallway. The door that led to another room was a little open. Lyra's curiosity grew and her smile widened.

Cheerfully, she announced to her daemon, “Let's f.... fi... find out w.... wh... where the d.... do... door lea... leads us. Come on Pan!”

"Lyra, please stay here! You need to rest," Pantalaimon said desperately, but Lyra completely blocked him out. The temptation of the adventure was too great for that.

So, she moved on and dragged herself further down the hallway. But every step was torture for the girl. Her daemon on the other hand was reluctant to follow her too but, in the end, he was forced to follow her because he didn't want to risk the pain of the separation when the two were too far apart. 

Long moments passed before Lyra reached the room, more precisely the lounge of the airship. She opened the door a little more and peered in. She could now see her grandparents who were talking to two young men and a young lady who Lyra quickly recognized as her two uncles and her aunt. 

Then, for a few moments she listened to the conversation, which was about her own mother, but not about her father, not a single word. He wasn't even mentioned or hinted at. 

The conversation then became more and more interesting for Lyra, but then a majestic lioness appeared behind her back. She roared loudly and startled Lyra. The shock was so deep that she starts to scream. Without hesitation, she stormed into the lounge, but the exhaustion made itself felt as she collapsed in front of one of the bench seats. 

She pulls her legs towards her, hugged them, and cried loudly. Everyone in the room rose from their seats, including Lyra's grandfather, who immediately called his daemon back.

"Enough, Athena, you've scared her enough already!"

With quick steps John reached his granddaughter and goes on his knees, whispering soothingly, "It’s all right, Lyra, you needn't be afraid. Athena is a lovely lioness, you probably didn't notice her in Askersund."

"I.... I... I r.... re... real... really h.... h... hav... haven't," Lyra replied to her grandfather.

"Now you know her," John said, giggling. "Let me clean your face first."

Lyra's grandpa pulled a handkerchief out of his jacket pocket and begins to wipe Lyra's warm tears from her face. Quietly, he exchanged a few more words of reassurance with her before Lyra's grandma steps up to the two. 

She goes on her knees next to her husband, showing a friendly expression on her face. "Why aren't you in bed, dear?" She asked softly.

"A dae... daemon was w.... wat... watch... watching me," Lyra replied tearfully. "He w... was in my r... ro... room, but th... that's i.... im... impos... impossible. N... n... no one c... can be so far aw... away fr… from his d.... da... daemon.”

Her eyes wandered a little across the room. All daemons did not match her description. Except for one who was hiding behind her grandmother's legs.

Immediately Lyra starts to tremble, she says, "t.... th... that's h... h... him. He w.... w... was in m.... m... my r.... ro... room." She stuck out her index finger and pointed to him, "It is your daemon!"

"My daemon?" Stella smirked like a child. She puts a damp, blonde lock of Lyra hair behind her ear with two fingers. “You're mistaken,” she says with a pout. “He was with me the entire time, honey."

Lyra shakes her head, warm tears running down her face, "I... I... I k... kn... know w.... wh... what I've s..... s... se... seen." she repeated over and over again.

Stella in return stretches out her arms, “come here, Honey, you are simply exhausted, it was just a hallucination.”

“Why don't you believe me!” Lyra replied screaming, she started to cry. She didn't believe what her grandma was trying to make clear to her.

But the grandma herself just shakes her head with a smile again, gently massaging Lyra's hair with her delicate hands. "Honey, I want to believe you, but your brain is playing a trick on you." She replied, lifting Lyra’s chin with her index finger "Our daemons were all here. We can't part with them ... Lyra, no one can do that. Only witches can do that.”

"O... on... only w... wi... witches c... can do t.... th... that," Lyra replies under the influence of her tears. "Y… yo... you're ri… right, nana."

"Exactly, only witches can do this," Stella repeated again, to please Lyra before she pulls her granddaughter into a loving hug. "It was just a hallucination caused by your fever,” she whispered in Lyra’s ear. “You don't have to be afraid of my daemon, he was with me the entire time."

“Nana ...," Lyra looks into her eyes. “I'm s.... s... so... sorry that I b.... b... bla... blamed you."

"You don't have to apologize," Stella answers calmly with a melodious voice. When she looks Lyra in her brown eyes moments later, she sees that the girl finally believes her. 

She grabs the girl under the arms and picks her up from the floor. Gently, she begins to caress Lyra's back in circular movements while slowly pacing up and down.

Lyra is getting tired, she rubs her eyes and lets her head rest on the chest of her grandmother who bows her head and inhales her granddaughter pleasant scent, kisses her, and then calls her eldest son over with a wave of the hand.

"Put her back to bed, Matthew. I have some work to do."

“I'm happy to do that for you, mother.” Matthew answers and takes Lyra from his mother. He holds Lyra in his hands for the first time since she was a baby, feeling the jealousy of his brother who is watching him at the same time.

"Marcel, don't sulk," says Matthew with a chuckle and looks at his brother. "You still have plenty of chances to hold your niece in your arms."

"Shut up, brother. Take our niece to bed," replies Marcel.

Surely, bro,” Matthew leaves the lounge, walks down the hallway until he reaches his mother's room and enters. He slowly closes the door behind him and then walks over to the bed, where he puts Lyra down. 

His niece moves a little, she rubs her eyes tiredly again as he reaches for the covers and places them over her little body. Then he picks up her cuddly toy and places it on her chest, where Lyra immediately grabs it. 

Afterwards Matthew quietly moves away from his niece and sits down in the comfortable armchair. Relaxed, he crosses his arms and leans back while his daemon, a female lynx named Anna, stretches out at his feet.

Both watch over Lyra until the airship lands.

* * *

* * *

Towards evening they finally reached the family estate outside of Oxford. The estate itself was huge and surrounded by the best English forest. The security measures were high around the house.

In order not to frighten Lyra any further, all security guards were instructed to stay away a little. Only the most important people were allowed to appear like the gatekeeper. Lyra was able to greet this nice old man, before the motorcade started to speed up again. They drove through the long driveway until they reached the large forecourt.

The cars stopped and several servants armed with a yellow umbrella immediately brought the Delamares safely into the house because it was raining and thundering like never before this autumn 

When everyone in the house felt safe, the rain got worse and little Lyra's fear grew. She winced at every clap of thunder and her uncle Marcel had an idea: "come on Lyra, let's take a look at the weather together," Marcel giggled and grabs his niece from behind.

But Lyra had other plans, "let me go, uncle." She screamed and tried to resist the tight grip and to escape him, but her uncle was too strong. Reluctantly and still complaining, she was carried to the door.

Lightning and thunder shook the house again. Lyra clung to her uncle as she rested her head on his chest. She was so scared and cried, but her uncle showed no mercy.

"Ready Lyra?" Marcel asked her laughing.

"Nooo!!"

Matthew opened the door for his brother, who stepped under the protective roof of the main entrance with Lyra. The rain pelted the roof and there was a violent flash around them, but for some reason Lyra's fear vanished. Slowly she dropped her hands, which she had held protectively against her ears and watched the spectacle with wide eyes.

Her relatives are watching her with a smile, while they make sure that Lyra doesn't get wet from the rain. Finally, after another five minutes, they ended Lyra's little excursion. Marcel takes the now fearless Lyra in his arms and carried her into the large living room, where her grandmother was already waiting.

"Come to Grandma," said Stella, taking Lyra from her son. Next, she carefully places Lyra on the couch and puts a thick, warm blanket around her body. Then she picks up the bottle of hot chocolatle and handed it to her granddaughter.

Stella herself picks up her cup and takes a seat next to Lyra. They both took a sip and Lyra asked her grandmother where her mother had gone.

Stella calmly replied that Marisa had to go on a little trip with Lyra's father. In a week she would be back and move in with Lyra, but what the child didn't know was that her grandmother was already planning and partially implementing to keep control of her.

Lyra was meant to grow up with her grandmother.

* * *

THE END OF THE FIRST ACT

* * *


	9. The Play With The Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments,

THE BEGINNING OF THE SECOND ACT

* * *

Geneva, Switzerland (Five days after the end of Chapter 8)

* * *

Asriel looks out of his hotel room in Geneva, but he could hardly see anything. The window was too much fogged up with the morning fog, even though the sun was already shining in the sky on this cool morning, besides, what he could see gives him time to think and to digest what had happened in the past few days. 

First, he had to travel from the ice-cold lands of Svalbard to Askersund with his daughter and lover, then they were haunted by a magical greek goddess and to top it off, Marisa's mother appeared and kidnapped Lyra (in his opinion).

"You couldn't have prevented it. Stella would have disappeared with Lyra one way or another." 

Stelmaria tried to minimize his guilt with her further words, to give him comfort so that the wounds would heal, but Asriel didn’t think to take the words to heart.

“The wounds will heal when I have Lyra in my arms again," he said to his daemon somberly, "Then she will be free from that damn family's influence."

Asriel moves away from the window. Carefully and quietly, he pulls the blinds down to darken the room and shifts his gaze as well as his attention back to the bed, where Marisa was still soundly asleep.

It was very hard for him to believe how calm Marisa was. She had accepted the breakup more positively than Asriel himself after Lyra had disappeared. She knows too that the child was safe with her grandparents and she herself was able to concentrate fully on the task.

How Marisa did it was a mystery to him, but Asriel knew one thing for sure. He had just got up and felt the need to eat breakfast, but first he went to the bathroom.

As he showered Asriel thought about what he wanted to eat, but Stelmaria objected. Telepathically she kept sending him other thoughts that were slightly different and had to do with a scantily clad Marisa, lying in his bed.

"Do you like it Asriel?" Stelmaria asked from a safe distance, with no intention of getting wet, but Asriel opened the shower curtain and began to splash the water in her direction. "Stop doing that!!" The daemon wailed, leaving the bathroom as quickly as possible.

Asriel himself watched her go, calling out to her with a chuckle, "If you ever implant such thoughts in my brain ever again, I'll have to punish you for being so naughty."

"I believe you."

"A wise decision Stel," Asriel replied, closing the curtain, and finishing his shower. 

A few minutes later he stepped out freshly dressed from the bathroom. His gray suit glowed with power, while his white shirt gave the look the right depth.

Once more he smoothed his jacket and left the room as quietly as possible, but what he hadn't noticed was that Marisa was already awake. She stretched and yawned softly before getting up and disappearing into the bathroom.

* * *

* * *

On his way to the hotel lounge, where breakfast was provided for the guests Asriel met several magisterium officials and functionaries who, to his amazement, left him alone without watching him much. It was strange, he thought to himself.

"There had to be a reason for this," Stelmaria told him. "It has rarely been this easy to move through a hotel filled with magisterium employees."

“You're right, but even if there's a reason I don't want to know it." 

Asriel wasn't really very interested in it at the moment. There were more important things to him than wondering why he could walk through a house full of magisterium officials so easily, but Stelmaria did not let the subject rest. Perhaps it was the influence of the Delamare family that was responsible, or it was Marisa's presence that put everything in order when they walked into the hotel yesterday afternoon, she thought.

But she couldn't really draw any conclusions from it. Not even after entering the lounge where the first "problem" of the day lurked. Both met Marisa's brother Marcel, much to Asriel's displeasure. He was already sitting quietly alone in the room at the breakfast table and greeted Asriel as soon as he saw him.

"I wish you a good morning Asriel," said Marcel and waved to him happily with a big smile on his face.

"What are you doing here, Delamare?" Asriel asked, taking a tray, and beginning to place the required food on the tray.

"Your future mother-in-law sent me," declared Marcel. "I'm here to help you.”

"We don't need your help!" 

Marcel shakes his head, "do you really think so, Asriel?" He asked, getting up and stepping up to Asriel. "Come on, it would be a tragedy if little Lyra lost her parents and I couldn't prevent it."

Asriel puts the tray down and pushed Marcel against the wall, where he grabbed him by the collar of his jacket. Gritting his teeth, he said, "You better watch what you say, Delamare."

"You bastard, I will not let you drag my sister and niece into the abyss," says Marcel mockingly and frees himself. With both hands he managed to push Asriel away, warning him afterwards: "Asriel, listen to me, you have no idea what you're getting into."

"I know exactly, what I'm getting into!”

"Please, Asriel, the cardinal, is merciless," Marcel warned him again. "You have to be careful, especially when you talk to him. Look … If the conversation goes wrong, I can't help you anymore."

“She won't Marcel," Asriel replied calmly. "I know we don't know each other very well, but it's really none of your business."

"You are wrong, Marisa is my sister, Lyra is my only niece that I have, and her business is mine too." Marcel said, speaking out next a vow he swore as a child, "I'll protect them with everything I have."

"Marcel, I can understand that," admitted Asriel, putting a hand on Marisa's brother's shoulder. "You can come with us to this meeting, but you will stay out of it. Marisa can take care of herself, she doesn't need the help of her dear brother."

Marisa's brother nods, slightly amused, "maybe that's true, but you don't know her like me." He giggled, but his face darkened as did his voice. "I warned you, Asriel, we'll see what happens. Let's hope everything goes the way you want it to go. I'll see you later."

Relaxed, Marcel smooths his black jacket and patted Asriel on the shoulder, then he leaves the room with his daemon, but to his surprise he met his sister a few meters after the door.

"Marcel, what are you doing here?" Asked Marisa confused.

"Our Mother sent me to take care of you a little," Marcel replied with a chuckle. "She is always a little worried when her children do something .... naughty."

His daemon flies from his shoulder to Oz, while he himself extends his long arms and pulls his sister into a loving hug. He caresses tenderly the back of his siter and rocks Marisa back and forth too, which mostly made her laugh, but she wasn't in a good mood today.

"Marcel, I can take care of myself," she pushed her brother aside. "I don't need our beloved mother's protection. I don't have time to talk to you now either.”

"Sister heart ..." Marcel puts on his pout.

Marisa didn't care, "I'll see you later, brother!" She walks into the lounge to Asriel, who was already waiting. 

He had observed their very brief conversation in a visibly relaxed manner. It brought a smile to his face that she had treated her brother a little rough. He asked her too what Marcel wanted from her and Marisa reproduced exactly the content of the sentences. Asriel himself left out the brief conversation he had had with Marcel about the meeting. 

"We just met," he said in a calm voice. "Our conversation was short-lived. Nothing important, you don't have to worry."

Marisa nodded in agreement, "Alright. I think we should start to eat breakfast now."

“Good idea Marisa, what would you like to have?”

* * *

* * *

About two hours later, after getting dressed and having breakfast, Marisa and Marcel were sitting together in the lounge of the Magisterium's headquarters in Geneva.

"I'm supposed to give you this postcard from Lyra. She wrote it especially for her beloved parents with Mum's help.”

Marcel takes the postcard out of his pocket of his jacket and hands it to Marisa, who examined it carefully with her delicate hands. The motif showed the Palace of Westminster in London together with Big Ben. Marisa now suspected that, Lyra had chosen this motif to convince her father to visit this place with her, because Marisa had never done it with her. Then she turned the postcard and read the short greeting message, which was scribbled on the card by Lyra in her sloppiest handwriting.

"She still has to practice writing!”

Both siblings were very amused about it, especially Marisa, but at the same time she longed very deeply to see her daughter. It had been almost a week since she last saw Lyra and hold the girl in her arms too. 

“Can you tell me more about her condition?” Marisa asked softly. 

"Her condition has hardly changed, you know … Mother … Mama is at home every day and sits by her side in her room on the third floor," Marcel explained, squeezing his sister’s tender and warm hand. "Dad always has to drag her out of the room, otherwise she would spend the whole day there, but sometimes he even sits himself by her side.”

"I think he's only doing it to hide his concern," Marisa commented, worried.

“Yes, that's right, both are very worried," replied Marcel knowingly. He puts an arm around his sister and continued, "Lyra lies in her bed all day and sleeps. Occasionally mama wakes her up and feeds her like a baby, but what bothers our lovely mother most is that the medicine Lyra is given works just very little."

"Marcel, there must be some decent medicine out there to help her!" Marisa replied angrily. 

But the anger quickly turned into sadness. First Marisa sobbed, then she bursts into tears. Desperate, she lets her emotions run wild, just like a few days ago in Askersund, but her brother was there to give consolation. 

"Don't cry, Marisa, I assure you that Lyra gets the best medication, but it needs time to work." Marcel made clear to his sister in a calm voice. "The effort of the trip, through the north, was just too much for her."

“But we had to do it!" Marisa tried to defend herself, but she starts to whine, "I'm so sorry, It's all my fault. I shouldn't have forced her into this life. Now she is seriously ill and there's nothing I can do for my beautiful little baby.”

"Marisa, it's not your fault, you saved your daughter." Marcel assured, pulling his sister into a hug. "Our little peanut (Lyra), will recover! Mama will take care of everything! She will do everything to help you to nurse Lyra back to health!"

Marcel's hug grew stronger and for the first time in years both siblings where closer than ever. Their love had cooled in the past, but today they both tried to close that wound to rebuild their sibling love. They cuddled together like never before, trying to comfort each other as Marisa forgets that Asriel had ever existed for a few moments.

Only her siblings and their relationships with each other exist at this moment, but much to Marcel's aversion, this beautiful moment was once again destroyed by mistrust among one another.

"Why are you really here?" Marisa asked suddenly. 

"I've come to protect you, on mama’s order.”

"Why do you want to protect me? What did mother do?"” Marisa asked spiteful as she gently withdrew herself from Marcel's embrace. 

She wipes the warm tears from her face, before she shifts the attention back to her brother, who was obviously a little nervous. His hands were shaking, and he continued to look at his watch. His daemon showed the same tendency, except that she nervously cleaned her fur.

"When Mama finally held Lyra in her arms," said Marcel nervously, "Papa pulled out all the stops to protect Lyra, which means as soon as possible, they removed all obstacles to obtain custody of Lyra,” Marcel symbolically snapped his finger once, “everything is settled. Lyra is safe and respected in the eyes of the church."

Marisa shakes her head completely unimpressed, "but you have no power over us," said Marisa annoyed, knowing that her mother would not miss this chance. "Our fates are open. Am I right?”

"That's right", Marcel replied sadly, putting his hand on her hand. "Isa, we must be careful with the cardinal. Your safety comes first, so please leave Asriel to his fate, I beg you!"

"I won't do that. I won't give up on Asriel, not at any cost," Marisa replied angrily to her brother. She swore, "I'm going to be Lady Belacqua and Mama can't change it, do you understand?”

"You will do what our adorable mother says, or you will perish!" Marcel's face darkened. 

His nervousness turned to anger. Not at his sister, but at Asriel. He cared about Marisa. If he lost her, he just couldn't forgive himself, but suddenly Asriel himself steps through the door, seeming exceptionally calm and relaxed. 

"Are you done with your chat?” Asriel asked, pointing upwards with his finger, "the Cardinal is waiting for us."

"Sure Asriel," Marisa replied.

She gets up from the bench. Her hands are smoothing her beautiful red dress once more, along with the matching red jacket she was wearing. Marcel, who had also risen from his seat, approached his sister. With his hands he buttoned the last two buttons from his sister's jacket and handed his sister her pillbox hat.

"Remember what I told you, Isa."

"If you wish," Marisa artfully places her pillbox hat on her head. "I will remember that, my dear brother Tom."

Now all three were ready for the confrontation with the devil in person of the cardinal.

* * *

* * *

When they entered the Cardinal's study, Asriel was surprised. The cardinal himself looked differently than he had imagined. Instead of expecting a fat and bald guy, this man radiated a completely different aura.

There was something mysterious about him. His form, including his daemon, a pitch-black raven, said nothing about his personality. Even for his age, he seemed as mentally fit as a nimble twenty-year-old, even though he was well over sixty-five. Asriel guessed that this guy shouldn't be underestimated, even though he seemed to be kind.

“Mrs. Coulter, it is good to see you and Lord Asriel as well. I am very glad that we were able to organize this meeting."

"Your Eminence," Marisa bowed and pulls the stiff Asriel with her. It was of the utmost importance that Asriel presented himself at his best. If he made just one mistake, all would be lost.

"Please take a seat,” the cardinal pointed with his hands at the three empty chairs in front of his desk, and his guests take those seats one by one. Marisa takes a seat in the middle, while the two men took their places to the left and to the right of her.

"Your Eminence," said Marisa, “I am aware of how precious your time is, and I would like to thank you once again on behalf of my mother, Baroness (Lady) Delamare, for giving us this time."

"The lovely and enchanting Stella had to pull a few strings to arrange this meeting. You should be grateful to your mother, she very rarely gives anyone a second chance.”

"We appreciate that, cardinal," interrupted Asriel, "but we'd like to get straight down to business if I may suggest."

Asriel dashed forward with the sledgehammer, wanting to get over with it as soon as possible much to the displeasure of Marisa and Marcel. Both Delamare siblings could only hope that the cardinal would be lenient to him. What lowered their hope even more was that the two alpha animals were watching each other. Her expression remained emotionless, but Marisa and Marcel's face twisted into a frightened grimace. No one could stand it, but at the same time redemption followed.

The cardinal remained friendly and relaxed, "If you wish, Lord Asriel." He spoke understandingly as he calmly reaches into his drawer and takes out a large writing pad, where he always wrote down his notes, which he would need for a conversation. 

He puts on his reading glasses, before he begins to read it attentively for a few minutes.

In this particular and nerve-wracking time, Marisa was able to devote herself to the tense Asriel. She pulls the postcard, which Lyra had written, out of her red handbag and placed it gently in Asriel's hand, who then begins to read and examine the card.

"Her handwriting is horrible!" Asriel noted, giggling. 

He remembered now the old days longingly. He tells Marisa happily and in a low voice that he often wrote postcards to Lyra when she was still living at Jordan College, which was mostly the only way to keep in touch with her. The letters he always received from college were only created by the master. 

Most of the time he wrote Asriel unimportant things that never really interested him. However, there was always a current picture of his daughter in the envelope, which Asriel always kept in his jacket pocket. The fact that Lyra herself was able to write postcards, with a little help, showed her father how grown up she was. He was proud of his daughter, but only a little. She still had a lot to learn.

Minutes later, Asriel returned the postcard to Marisa and she puts it back in her purse before the cardinal turns to them again.

"Mrs. Coulter,” the Cardinal begins to speak, “Is it true that you left Bolvangar? You testified to … Father Sha … MacPhail that you were taking some time off."

"That's right, your Eminence," Marisa agreed. She moved a little in her chair and continued, "the project has failed, and I've decided to suspend it for the time being."

"Your reasons?" Asked the cardinal with a raised eyebrow.

"The project did not produce the expected results, your eminence. It would have been pointless to sacrifice more children. The series of tests clearly showed that the machine no longer meets our requirements. So, I have concluded that the machine has become completely useless.”

"Hm," the cardinal leans back in his armchair, knowing that Marisa had something to hide. She was too calm, the way she spoke to him was strange. Nobody would admit mistakes so easily. But he had to be sure she wasn't deliberately lying before he accused her. 

Mrs. Marisa Coulter was respected in the Church. If he punished her innocently, his own career would end, and the Magisterium would have lost a valuable employee and agent.

"Mrs. Coulter, I remind you that you answer to the authority that I represent," the cardinal made clear, leaning forward with his hands together. "Are you certain?” 

"Entirely Cardinal. I swear so help me God that I'm telling the truth," Marisa replied emotionlessly in a firm voice. "I have been serving the Church for a long time and I have always dedicated my loyalty to the magisterium. I...”

"Your Eminence", spoke Marcel and interrupted his sister, "I vouch for my sister. Her employees are the shame of Bolvangar. Only these fools are responsible for this disaster."

"Enough Marcel!” Marisa forbade her brother to speak. She could speak for herself. Without hesitation, she reaches into her purse and takes out a rare gold compass. An alethiometer, which she slowly pushed onto the table.

"I believe that is what you are looking for. This whole farse is all about this instrument." Marisa says to him mockingly and with such a boredom in her voice that even the cardinal was surprised. 

She had been meek and submissive all along, but now she pulls her ace out of her sleeve, a resounding and quite powerful ace. Marisa's best pressure medium to protect herself and her child.

"This alethiometer will give us insights that are priceless …. Cardinal … Multiple worlds and the healing of original sin are within reach. We will be able to explore things that have been a mystery to us." 

Marisa smeared honey around the cardinal's mouth. Her voice was angelic and melodic at the same time. She knows that she had won, and that the cardinal was helpless. Of course, she had vowed never to return to Bolvangar, but it was important to continue her work. As an experimental theologian, she was forced to continue her work. 

Dust and its secrets have fascinated her all her life. If she stopped working on her research, it would be professional suicide, therefore Marisa recommended that the Cardinal allowed that the church gives more resources to the General Oblation Board in order to continue its work satisfactorily. This step was driven by sheer greed, the greed for power, even the cardinal himself could not resist. 

“I approve the additional funding, Mrs. Coulter. You are hereby acquitted of your allegations. You have a free hand to punish the guilty and move on with the project without further delay."

“I really appreciate that," Marisa replied satisfied. "I will take the necessary measures immediately, your eminence.”

The cardinal nods in satisfaction and carefully places the golden compass, the alethiometer, back into Mrs. Coulter's open hands. Then he watches her closely as she wrapped the alethiometer in a silk cloth and put it back in her purse.

"Lord Asriel,” the Cardinal turned one page further in his writing pad. "I heard you are also researching dust and its secrets."

"That's right. I haven't had a chance to put my theories into practice yet. My work has been called heresy," Asriel replied darkly. "The loss of my property and assets, including my title, was the reason I couldn't continue my work the way I would like."

"Really Asriel? I see it differently,” said the cardinal, placing a document on the table in front of Asriel.

This document stated that Asriel was a victim of a procedural error and the trial was declared invalid. His estates, his money and his title would therefore be returned to him.

"I don't know what to say," Asriel shakes his head in disbelief, he couldn't believe it. "How is that possible?"  
"I don't know that myself,” replied the cardinal, shaking his head with a slight smile. "One of my employees discovered this valuable piece of paper a few days ago."

Asriel exchanged an excited look with Stelmaria, who was cuddled next to Oz in a corner of the room.

"Something is wrong," Stelmaria warned him, "It's too easy, too tempting to be true."

"I know, Stelmaria," he told her in his thoughts, "but we have to take this opportunity. It is my only chance to continue my work in peace."

"Be warned, Asriel, we have to plan every step-in advance," Stelmaria pointed out. "We have to be careful who we trust. "

"I agree with you," Asriel turned back to Marisa, who had the document in her own hand.

"Asriel, you know what that means," said Marisa excitedly and at the same time overjoyed. Again, she reads the document carefully to make sure everything was correct, and it was indeed correct so, "you get everything back that was taken from you."

"It has to be confirmed, Mrs. Coulter, but I can give you a document to show that we have an agreement."

The cardinal reached back in his drawer and pulls out another document that was just waiting for his signature. But first he lets Asriel sign the document, who picks up the pen without hesitation and signed it. Then the cardinal places his signature on the document.

"Asriel, I can only warn you not to lose this document!” The cardinal carefully hands the document back to Asriel, who then passed it on to Marisa, who tucked it in her purse.

"Do you have any questions?” Asked the cardinal. "Otherwise, I would declare the meeting to be over."

"No, your eminence," replied Marisa and got up with Asriel.

The cardinal rose too, and they shake hands properly before Marisa and Asriel bowed obsequiously and left the room. 

However, Marcel stayed in the room with the cardinal and waited briefly until Marisa and Asriel were out of sight before closing the door.

"I hope your mother will be satisfied with it," said the cardinal, leaning back in his chair. His daemon sat on the armrest, he continued, "It wasn't easy to get this document through the inner circle."

"Mother will be happy." replied Marcel and looks out the window, where he had a good view of his beloved sister, who was leaving the building as quickly as possible. "Dad sends greetings, I should thank you again for helping us, Grandpa."

"That was not a problem. I do everything as head of the family to protect my family, especially my great-granddaughter Lyra."


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, added aditional dialogues + Introduction of Stella's daemon

* * *

Oxford, The Delamare Estate

* * *

Another day has passed since Lord Asriel and Marisa Coulter successfully completed the meeting with the Cardinal in Geneva. Stella Delamare, who in the meantime had learned of this development, sat annoyed on her terrace. 

It had been raining consistently for the last five days.

"The weather pisses me off since we got back to Oxford," she said to Napoleon.

Napoleon was Stella’s daemon, which had taken the shape of a big and black-haired chimpanzee. Just like his human counterpart, he could be very loving and kind to other people, but sometimes he showed the same ruthlessness and pronounced sadism like his human counterpart. 

But his mood … his mood was currently as bad as Stella's at the moment, and not even Athena, who had snuggled up next to him, could not change that either could it John. 

"I think the weather won't change in the next few days," John noted, sitting next to her at the small table that had been set up on the terrace.

"It really is typical english weather for this time of the year," Stella replies. 

She leans back in her chair and listens attentively to the loud, lashing rain and tries to relax. The past few days had been hard for her, even if she was just sitting at Lyra's bed. Caring for a child was not new territory for her, but it was a challenge, which she gladly accepted and tried to master with all her skills.

Her husband supports her, even if he sometimes avoids to spend time with Lyra in her room. He's not doing it on purpose, he's just trying to hide his fear, which he suppresses, however, his wife notices this, but she doesn't mind, because she feels the same way and worries about Lyra like a young mother would do, but this time she and her husband do their duty as grandparents. 

Today they're doing it again, but John has other plans. "I have to go to London, back to the company. There are a few important things that need my attention," he said to his wife, getting up from his chair.

Stella in return seemed surprised. It was a little strange that he drove back to his company office on a Saturday morning. His tasks had to be very important and urgent and John seemed a little excited too, but in a good way. Concluded, Stella could calmly let her husband go to work. 

Therefore, she tries to send him away, personally, with a pat on his bottom, but John takes her hand. He pulls her out of the chair and kisses his wife as his arms are wrapping around her delicate body.

"I think my work can wait," John said with a chuckle. His mouth moved to her neck, where he kissed her too. 

Stella in turn moaned aroused and John had already planned his daily routine differently; his hands slid over the back of his wife's knees and with a forceful push Stella loses her balance and falls into his left arm. John then picks her up with ease and carries his wife from the terrace to the bed, where he gently laid the woman down, kissing her too.

But Stella wasn't in the mood for some love and tenderness. 

"I have to take care of Lyra, so you'll have to wait, honey!”

John pouted, "come on, Stella, my shining star, cuddle with me for a few minutes, please."

"Well then,” Stella signs, “come here my little cuddly grandpa bear." 

She attempts to pull him onto the bed, but John was quicker and pushes his wife’s upper body on the bed. His hands slide onto the bed, he leans with his whole and big body over the small Stella

"I can stay at home if you want," John informed her, slowly sliding his hand down her body until he reached what Lyra called the no-touch zone. "We can stay in bed all day,” he said and kisses her on her mouth. “And we can have some fun while your three children will take care of the little one." 

“Fox … “

“Pssst, no more words, honey,” John says whispering, giving her a little pressure.

“Ahhhhh … Great Hera …. Fucking Shit!!” Stella moaned, her body whole rose for a moment in excitement and then fell once more. She was in the mood now, but she also thought of Lyra. "I'm so sorry, but please go to work darling!”

She separates from her husband, while her daemon breaks away from Athena and jumps back into Stella’s secure arms. 

"If I pissed you off,” she mumbles, “I could only express my regrets, but honey, our baby Lyra needs me right now."

"It's okay, Stella. You don't have to apologize to me," John said to her in a soothing voice. "Our lovely and enchanting granddaughter has priority. We still have plenty of time to have our fun."

John crawls off the bed and pulls on his dark grayish jacket that hung over the chair. Then he reaches for his briefcase and walks one last time to the bed, where he kisses his wife goodbye and disappeared from the room with his yellow Umbrella. 

* * *

* * *

Armed with a pen, Stella sat relaxed in her armchair in Lyra's nursery, in her own Apartment, on the third floor of the house. She was just busy jotting down some notes, which were going through her mind and had to do with her work.

Her daemon kept an eye on the restlessly sleeping Lyra, but the girl was already sweating profusely again, just like her daemon, who was nestled around her neck as an ermine. His short snowy-white fur was soaked wet.

"Stella!" Napoleon turned to her, concerned.

"What do you want? You see I am busy," she replies annoyed and puts on her reading glasses. Under no circumstances did she want to be disturbed, while she was working, but today her daemon ignored her request.

"Your grandchild is sweating too much," he gently touching Lyra's face with his human-like hands. "You see, my hands are already wet. That's not good, Stella."

"Napoleon,” Stella signs, “You're exaggerating! My Grandchild is perfectly fine.”

She moves the chair a little closer to Lyra's bed. She brushes then the warm and sweaty strands of Lyra's reddish-wet face and feels with the back of her hand Lyra’s body heat, which had already fallen slightly after a fever attack two days ago.

The chimpanzee senses also Lyra's temperature, which is still worrying, however, Stella tells him that he is just too worried and leans back in the chair, but not relaxed. She moves back and forth in search of a comfortable seating position, just like Lyra she just couldn't find any rest. 

Her daemon noticed that and jumps from the bed to the chair and puts one hand on her face. Tenderly, he lets then his palm slide across her warm cheek.

Calmed by his movements, Stella sinks into the armchair. She takes off her glasses and closes her eyes. In the meantime, Napoleon removes the pen and notepad from her hands and placed it on the bedside table, then he made himself comfortable on her lap and like Stella, he slowly falls asleep.

About three quarters of an hour later, both were gently awakened again by a child's voice. 

Stella slowly opened her eyes and the sunlight, which had flooded the room blinded the woman for a moment, while her eyes adjusted. Then her gaze and her attention shift to Lyra, who yaws loudly as she stretches out her tired body to relieve the tiredness in her limbs.

“Did my little baby sleep well?" Stella asked, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"N... n... not r.... rea... really," Lyra answered still wearily, lifting, and leaning her upper body against her still siting grandmother.

"Neither do I,” Stella said, somewhat enlightened by the consequences. “My armchair wasn't exactly the best choice for sleeping, sweety." 

And Stella was indeed right about that. Her back hurts badly and she had to stretch out herself for a moment to ease the pain. Then she takes a deep breath and finally she feels better and was now able to close her arms around the upper body of her granddaughter.

Urgently, she needs this moment of love today because her granddaughter looked a little healthier, which made her happy, but suddenly Stella notices, with a quick touch, that her white silk shirt was a damp from the embrace. 

"Lyra, my love … you sweated a lot in your sleep,” she said. “I will free you first from the sweat.”

With a towel, which she takes from the bedside table, she gently wipes the sweat from Lyra's face and hair, trying too to rub the girl as dry as possible, which resulted in the completely dishevelment of the girl’s hair after the treatment, therefore, Stella takes the hairbrush and corrects her mistake.

"Much better," commented Stella, satisfied with her perfect result. 

She puts the towel away and pushed Lyra's upper body back onto the bed. Next, with her hands she grabs the covers and spreads them back over Lyra's body. Then she takes a well-deserved sip of wine, while her gaze was still fixed on Lyra, who was looking at her.

"C... can you cu... cud... cuddle wi... with me?" Lyra asked, holding out her hands and putting on, at the same time, the same pout as her grandfather. "P.... pl... please nana, o.... on... only f.... for a f.... f... few m.... min... minutes."

"Make room, honey," replied the grandma with a smirk. 

She places the glass of wine back on the table, then she takes off the black pumps, she was wearing, and slips finally under the covers next to Lyra. With her delicate right hand, she massages Lyra's blond hair, which flashed darkly in the light of the room. The child in turn closed his eyes, her head slowly sinking next to her grandmother's breast. 

She puts her hand on her grandmother's basin and moved a little closer to her, then she falls asleep.

When Stella was sure that Lyra was really asleep, Stella moves gently away from the child. She puts on the black pumps and takes a seat in her armchair once more. Her daemon picks then up the pen and the notepad and hands these things over, then Stella was able to start to write again.

"N.... na... Nana?"

Lyra woke up immediately, she feels that her grandmother was no longer lying next to her, so she turns on the bed. She wants now to talk to her again, but Stella only glances briefly at the girl and adjusts her reading glasses before she devoted herself back to her notes, but Lyra really wanted her attention. 

To accomplish this, she calls the name of her grandmother as often as necessary until ….

"What's the matter, Lyra?" Stella stops writing, taking a sip of wine too. 

"W…. wh… when ... is …. my …. mama c…. com… coming ho… home?” Asked Lyra with great effort. "I ... I miss h.... h... her a l… lot.” 

The girl asked that question every day. She missed her Ma very much and Stella knows that only too well, but like every day, she could only comfort her granddaughter with her standard statement.

"She is on her way home," Stella told her, looking, and playing with her nails. "I can't tell you exactly when she'll be home, but in any case, it will be very soon. I promise, honey."

“I'm j.... ju... just wo.... wond... wondering nana, wh... where we'll …... live t…. th… then. Momma s... sa... says …. she wa... wants to … go ba... back to l.... lon... london, but p.... pa... papa d.... do... doesn't w.... wa... want to.”

Stella puts her pen aside, she crosses her legs and clasped her hands together. "Where do you want to live with your parents?" She asked her granddaughter, smiling devilishly, eager to see too what Lyra would answer.

But Lyra hesitated, she didn't want to take sides, because both sides had their temptations. But in the end their parents would decide where she would live. Lyra knows too that she had nothing to say. There was just a tiny hope for her to have any other home than her mother's apartment, but still, she wanted to answer the question.

"I …. I … I... I w… w.... wa….. want......" 

Lyra struggles, she couldn't get the words out. She was disturbed by her excitement, and ashamed she averted her gaze. As always, she got nervous when she spoke to someone.

"I w... w.... w….. wa...... wa....... wan…....." 

Once more she tried to speak, but the words were stuck firmly, so she takes the cuddly toy, which her mother had given her in her hand and presses it firmly against her to calm down again and to dispel the nervousness, but it was too strong. 

"Lyra, you want to live with me, hm” Stella finishes the sentence of Lyra, who nods in agreement. 

Stella herself was amused by Lyra's statement, knowing exactly how much the girl wanted a real home. Stella knows exactly too, when she looks in Lyra’s tired eyes, how the girl was feeling at the moment, because the desire had now been revealed.

And Lyra wanted to tell her that, "m…. m.… m.... m..... m..... ma...... mama w.… w.… w.... wo…. wo...... wo...... w.......” but her stuttering became more intense, therefore Lyra tried desperately to help herself by slapping her hands on her covers to finally be able to pronounce the words, but it was a pure torture.

It drove her so far that she throws angrily the cuddly toy away, she screaming then the pain out of her body before she bursts into tears.

"It's all right, Lyra." 

Stella rose from her chair and takes the crying child in her arms. Moments later, she walks around with Lyra on her arm and picks up the cuddly toy from the floor before she takes a seat in the armchair, where she tenderly runs her delicate fingers through Lyra's soft hair.

"Lyra ... Lyra Louisa, my sweet baby, everything is fine,” Stella said in a whisper. “I promise that we'll get your stuttering under control." 

Stella beamed lovingly with a smile at Lyra, pressing a few kisses on the girl’s cheek and a loving one on the mouth. She realized now, as she comforted the crying child, that it broke her heart to see little Lyra suffer from her stuttering. It had gotten a lot worse since the last time she had seen Lyra, when she was five years and a few days old.

"Would you like to have your bottle?" Stella asked, escaping her thoughts.

Lyra nods in silence with pleading eyes and Stella takes the bottle from the small bedside table. Carefully, she puts the bottle in Lyra’s hands and then lets a bomb explode, which Marisa would have liked to prevent.

"Lyra Louisa Delamare …. my beloved grandchild,” Stella said, putting a strand of hair behind Lyra’s ear as she smiles devilishly. "I have custody of you, which means that I and only I will decide where you live and I have decided that you will live with me, your grandpa and the rest of your family right here on Delamare Manor, your home!”

"N.... na... nana, w... wh... what?!”

Lyra looks at her in horror. She couldn't understand what she was hearing. Her parents were actually responsible for her, so she takes a big swig from her bottle to understand what was going on but …

"You can trust me," continued Stella in a serious voice. She gently puts her hand on Lyra's chin and caressed her reddish cheek with her thumb. "Your grandpa and I took care of everything. You will stay with Me, no matter what happens, darling!"

Stella's eyes sparkled with those words. Her devilish smile reappeared, while her daemon takes care of Pan.

"Don't be afraid, Lyra … my little star! We are a family, everything will be as always," Stella said seductively. Her embrace around the girl tightens and her mouth presses another fragrant kiss onto Lyra's mouth. "Your mama will live here with you,” she continues, “we both will protect you together like a lion cub. You are our little lion cub, hm?"

Lyra giggled with warm tears of joy in her eyes, "n.... na... nana h… ho… how did …. you do t.... th... that?"

"That my granddaughter remains my secret," replied Stella with a raised eyebrow. "I will take your bottle now and you will rest again." 

“As …. you w… wi.. wish, Nana.”

Lyra holds out and Stella takes as promised the bottle away. Then the girl crawls off her grandmother's lap, walks slowly back to her bed and crawls up on it. Then, sleepily, she pulls her covers to her, while Pantalaimon gives Lyra her cuddly toy and curls up next to her head.

Afterwards both closed their eyes and slept for another ninety minutes

* * *

twenty minutes before 2 p.m.

* * *

After her nap, Lyra was in pain. Her head was aching and with it her mood was changing … suddenly she feels a familiar longing for her friends too

Her grandmother, who is watching her curiously, feels the desire Lyra longed for, but first she thoughtfully adjusts the reading glasses, she was still wearing and wonders at the same time how she could talk to Lyra about the topic.

"I think the nap was good for you," Stella said with a smirk first before she begins to talk about the suspicions she feels and sees. "Honey … my maternal instinct tells me that you're depressed. Something is bothering you. Tell me about it, you don’t have to be shy.”

“Nana ….. my be... best f..... frie... friend a... alw... always w... wan.. wanted me .... to be a... ab.. able to l... li.. live wi... with my f.... f... fam.. family, " Lyra said thoughtfully, glancing briefly at the ceiling. "N.... n... now he's .... in … a b.... b... bet.. better p.... pl... place.”

Stella nods, knowing what Lyra was referring to: "You are thinking about this boy Lyra, hm? What was his name ... Pa ... Parslow ... Roger Parslow."

"Yes, nana,” Lyra bowed her head, still mourning, “I ... I mi… miss hi.. him a..... al... along w... wi.. with T.... To... Tony C.... Co... Costa and h.. his b.... bro... brother B.... Bil... Billy.” 

"You will make new friends, honey.” Stella comforts in a calm voice. “It's the cycle of life that makes us realize that some friends stay, or some disappear forever. You see, Roger would think the same way," Stella reaches out and tapped Lyra's heart with her index finger. "Little Star, keep him right here, he'll always be with you."

"B… b... but he w… w… wo… won't, Nana. He's gone forever!" Lyra screams out of herself.

She starts to sob first and then she bursts into tears straight away, for the second time today. Her longing for her friends was just too big and overwhelming, so she pushes away the covers, slowly climbs onto the armchair of her grandmother and hugged Stella.

"Shhhhhhh …. Lyra ... don't cry my love." Stella spoke in her soft and devilishly seductive voice.

She reaches, moments later, her two arms hand out. One is encompassing Lyra's body, with the other hand she glides slowly up Lyra’s neck until she had her fingers on the root of the girl’s hair. Now, very tenderly and with a soft hum, she lets her fingers slide through the sweaty and sticky hair of her granddaughter. 

Her hand itself gets damp from it and Stella feels the pleasant warmth of Lyra's body.

Out of the corner of her eye, after a few minutes of the finest and most relaxing massage Lyra had ever receive from a human person, she could see her grandpa, who slowly saunters over to the to of them and takes Lyra from his wife into his secure and fatherly arms, beginning to rock her too.

"Lyra's old friends, honey?" John asked.

His wife grunts in response to his question. She crosses her legs, smooths out the shiny skin-colored tights, she was wearing, and takes off her reading glasses, which she throws on the table. 

"Fox ….” Stella signs, letting him take a seat on the bed. “Our little Lyra was nervous and tearful all day. A few memories made her emotionally upset, but otherwise she was a brave good girl."

"So, the usual, darling,” John replied, noticing that something was bothering his wife. She looks depressed and annoyed at the same time. Then he looks at Lyra, who is hugging him. She's still sobbing and buried her face in his chest. The pain and the sorrow Lyra feels, draws his attention to something he had long suspected, Stella's anger at Lyra's friends and tormentors, which has grown to infinity.

Thoughtful, at his realization, John hugs his granddaughter tighter. He kisses her on her forehead before moving her onto his lap, so Lyra was able to look John straight into his eyes. It was now time to put an end to the drama, which was surrounding Lyra's friends.

"Lyra, now listen carefully," John said, his expression is growing serious, as did his voice, “your so-called friends are like poison to you. I want you to forget them forever before you experience an emotional breakdown. Did I make myself clear?"

"B.... but I do... don't w… want to fo… forget th… them g... gra.. grandpa," Lyra complained with a pout. "I .... I ju... just wa.. want ... to be w.... wi.. with t.... th... them.

"Lyra Louisa,” Stella draws Lyra's attention, “I am sorry, but your grandpa is right. I will not allow your so-called friends to destroy your life.”

"P… ple… please n... na.. nana," Lyra begged, half crying. "T... t... they a.. al... always t..... t.... tre..... treated me w... we.. well.”

Stella was unimpressed by Lyra's answer, "you are very wrong about that." She spoke maliciously. "I will refresh your memory, my dear daughter, then you will understand us.”

Lyra's grandmother rose from the bed and disappeared from the room. A couple of moments pass before she reappears with a red file in hands, from her study. Lyra could see that there was a sticker on the folder with the address of a private detective agency.

"Lyra Louisa, you won't like what I'm showing you now, but sadly it has to be!" Stella said unemotional.

She takes a seat on the bed once more. She puts the file on her lap, opens it and leafed through the files with her delicate fingers, then, when she had found what she wanted, she begins to read aloud a few passages, which described exactly how inhuman and derogatory Lyra's friends talked about her. 

But Lyra couldn't believe what she heard, "t.... th... that's not t..... t.... tr... true." She shakes her head, the tears intensified, "p.... ple... please d.... do… don't let ... it ... be tr... true. "You are lying to me!" Lyra yelled at her grandmother.

"I'm so sorry, dear," Stella replied in a sweet voice, tilting her head to one side, “it's true. I know that it hurts you a lot, but If you don't believe me, you let them get away with it. ….. Lyra … I know very well that they lied, cheated, cursed, and bullied you. I will not tolerate this matter, and neither will your mother …"

"G..... g.... gi... give me the f.... f... fi.. file, p..... p.... plea... please."

"As You wish!”

Stella hands the file a few moments later after the question was spoken. Lyra herself flipped slowly through the many pages, reading a couple of recorded conversations carefully as best she could. Also, she saw pictures, which showed the so-called friends together and happy.

"No... No..." Lyra begins to tremble from the shock that hit her. Her hands fidgeted and let the file fall, "My friends lied to me all the time. How could I be so stupid," Lyra screamed without stuttering, she collapsed crying. Deeply disappointed by her so-called friends.

Stella signs shortly before she leans forward to gather and sort the reports. Then she closed the red file and puts it on the bedside table.

Her husband tried to comfort his granddaughter, "It's okay Lyra. The terrible truth has come to light,” John said softly and swears an oath: "I promise you that they will pay for it."

"You can bet your life on that," continued her grandmother, gently squeezing her hand. "In the end, you'll laugh at them, I'll make sure."

"Lyra, you can trust Grandma. She is the best person I know," her grandfather said about his wife. 

He knows she would risk everything for Lyra, and he know too that she was happiest when Lyra was around, which is why she was so worried about her. Lyra's well-being was the most important thing at the moment and so both grandparents thought it best that … 

"Lyra, you will rest now," said Stella commandingly, "the excitement is not good for your recovery, honey.”

Lyra nods without another word and slowly crawls back onto the bed, where her grandfather hands the girl the extra-large teddy bear. 

Her grandmother disappeared with the file in hand and returned to her study, where she, relaxed, puts the red file back in the safe, takes the soporific and a large pot of hot chamomile tea, which she takes with her to Lyra's nursery. 

Carefully she puts now everything on Lyra's small bedside table. Then, first, she poured the warm tea into Lyra's bottle before she adds a dose of the soporific into the tea and seals the bottle, which she shakes, forceful as she was taking a seat in the armchair. 

She crossed her legs and sends her husband out of the room before she looks at Lyra, who was cuddling with her teddy bear on the bed.

"Louisa, please, come to me.”

“I’m coming,” Lyra mumbles. She puts the teddy bear aside, crawls of the bed, and approach her grandmother.

“I have your favorite tea here, chamomile tea, but honey, it's improved .. Do you want to taste it?”

“Nana, I don't know!”

"Darling, just relax," Stella says with a smirk and takes Lyra on her lap. “The tea is really delicious, I promise.

“I trust you,” Lyra says with half closed eyes, she was getting tired from the excitement. 

“Fine,” Stella chuckles, shaking the bottle. “All you have to do, my little baby, is to swallow. Grandmommy does the rest.”

She moves Lyra on her lap and brought the bottle to Lyra's mouth. Then she gently inserts the teat of the baby bottle into Lyra's mouth and the child begins to swallow and makes with it swallowing noises, which are throwing Stella back to her children's childhood when she had to give them the bottle. 

It just was the best time of her life, Stella knows that now, and it was the same with Lyra. It was just too nice to give her the bottle while she was sick, but she also had to be careful. Halfway through she had to take the bottle away, because Lyra's head was moving back and forth as she breathed heavily.

"Shhhhhhh, breath calmly," Stella said softly. She hands the bottle Napoleon and brushed, seconds later, a golden strand of hair from Lyra's face. "You will get your bottle back when you are calmer,” she scolds, “I don't want you to choke or vomit, like the other day.”

And Lyra obeyed, she leaned her head against the soft chest of her grandmother and breathed in and out again. Stella then had to wait a few minutes before she was able to insert the teat of the baby bottle back into Lyra's mouth and the girl resumes to drink, but under a few tears. 

But immediately Napoleon was there and caressed the little girl to Stella while Stella herself gives a little more pressure on the bottle with her hands and whispers whispered soothing words: "You are such a good girl," Stella comforted. "I'm so proud of you, the bottle will be empty soon. Remember, drink slowly, please, you have all the time in the world."

With a moan, Lyra continued to drink until she emptied the bottle a few minutes later. Then her grandmother puts the bottle away for good and Lyra in turn immediately clung to her. Stella was now able to close her arms around her, hugging her granddaughter lovingly while she patted her back gently forcing Lyra to burp slightly.

"Good girl," Stella whispered, giggling, and begins to rock the girl back and forth and Lyra …. Lyra was getting more and more tired. She was almost asleep when Stella suddenly sees someone out of the corner of her eye, who was very close to the little girl.

"Look who's there, Lyra!" Stella turned Lyra's face and pointed to the door where Lyra’s mother was standing. She had a happy smile on her face as she chased into the room and snatches the child out of the grandmother’s arms.

"Momma is here, my little baby!” Marisa announces with a kiss on Lyra’s mouth. "I'm home! We're both are reunited!”

“Mommy …. Mommy,” Lyra smirks tired, touching with her weak arms Marisa’s face.

“Yes, my little star,” Marisa chuckles, sniffing on Lyra’s hair, “I've missed you so much."

Marisa takes a seat on the bed and begins to rocks the girl, while she talks to her mother too. In this conversation, she was informed of how obedient Lyra had been and what she had been doing in the past few days.

"I also told her that she would live in this house in the future," Stella said, reaching for her glass. "I don't know where you two will live, but Asriel is always welcome in this house, darling."

"Thank you, mom, we will consider that.” Marisa sinks onto the bed. She takes off her high heeled shoes and pulls the cozy covers over herself and her daughter. Then she reaches and places Lyra’s cuddly toy near the girl’s head. 

“Mother, I want to be alone now,” Marisa said with a growl, Oz curled up next to Lyra's feet. In his arms he had Pan, with whom he cuddled and protected from the chimpanzee, who was siting near Stella’s feed.

She herself places the glass of wine on the bedside table and gets up. She walks to the bed and wraps tightly the covers around her granddaughter and her daughter. Then she gives first a kiss to Lyra then she gives another loving one to Marisa.

"I'm in my study if you need me, honey." Stella said softly. She steps back from the bed and leaves with Napoleon the nursery. 

* * *

* * *

After dinner, Lyra was already back in bed. In the meantime, her uncle, Marcel Delamare, returned home, but he did not return home alone. He was accompanied by Lyra's new speech therapist and nanny Sophia Hayward.

Miss or Mrs. Sophia Hayward was a beautiful young woman, who immediately impressed the second youngest Delamare offspring, so Marcel hired her straight away. He also had a private interest in the young lady and Sophia knows that only too well.

As soon as the two entered the house, Marcel tried to introduce himself a little more to the young lady.

Decent as he was, he takes the lady's coat and handed it to the clerk before putting an arm around Sophia. He gave her tips on how best to talk to his parents, but Sophia refuses to take this advice. She wants to stand on her own two feet and tells him annoyed that he should finally bring her to his parents, what he did a few moments later.

A little later, in the large living room on the ground floor of the house, Sophia talked with Lord and Lady Delamare, while Marisa Coulter was just a silent observer. She was sitting in her personal armchair a little away from her parents. She didn't just want to interfere now, she trusted her mother on this matter.

Therefore, Lyra's grandparents could ask Sophia everything without a complaint from her ambitions with Lyra to the teaching methods she would use in consultation with Lyra's parents or grandparents, who would have the final say. 

Sophia tried to be as specific as possible. It was her first job after graduation, and her only one for a long time. She had to give everything and use her limited practical experience correctly to be successful.

"Do you have any other questions, Lady Delamare?" Sophia asked a little nervously. She was excited and wanted to do everything right.

"No, Mrs. Hayward, I think we've discussed everything," replied Stella and suggested, "If you don't mind my son will show you your room."

"Marcel," John called for his son who immediately came through the door and went to the couch, where Sophia was sitting. "You will show Mrs. Hayward her room."

"All right, father!" Marcel turned to Sophia. "If you would follow me, please," He leds her now from the large living room directly to the second floor, where the said room was located. Once there, Marcel opened the door and entered with Sophia. 

"If you want to change something,” he said with a smirk, “please, let me know, Sophia."

Marcel takes a seat on the bed. He watches Sophia curiously as she carefully inspects the furnishings in the room; she looks at the comfortable armchair, the bed, the large wooden wardrobe, and her new desk. Everything in this one large room was specially designed for her.

"I'm happy with it," she told Marcel about the furnishings in the room and turned to him. "But Lyra and I are going to need a few more things."

“You and Lyra?" Marcel asked a little confused.

"I want her to feel comfortable when I work with her here in this very room. The first time I was here, I looked at the other rooms in the house and I decided, a few days later, to treat Lyra here. Marcel look …. she has to be able to trust me or I won't be able to treat her properly.”

“Why?” 

“Because, you have to know that children with language disabilities are shy. Lyra needs privacy so she can open up to me without anyone staring at her. Neither her parents nor her grandparents have a say in this room. I rule here.”

“All right, Sophia. You get everything you want,” replied Marcel approvingly. “But my sister and I will teach Lyra, so we have decided that she will receive this special lesson every three days after she has finished her lessons."

"Forget it," said Sophia, crossing her arms, "I'll decide that. Every day she will receive at least 1 hour of speech therapy." 

She tried to assert herself and that impressed Marcel. He assured her that Sophia could of course decide how much speech therapy Lyra would receive. Also, Marcel wanted to test Sophia out for sheer pleasure. 

Seeing her angry made the pretty lady even more attractive. Her curly blond hair which artfully touched her shoulders as well as her stormy greyish eyes sparkled like her warm smile. Concluded: there was something about her that attracted him. There was even more crackling between them when Sophia approached him.

"You will also show me your lesson plans," said Sophia, adjusting his tie. "I will also teach Lyra personally."

"I didn't think you were a teacher," Marcel replied with a giggle.

"This is my main job," replied Sophia in a whisper, "as a speech therapist, I have to be able to do a lot."

"Then I'm looking forward to seeing you in action. I'll leave you alone now. Your belongings will be brought to your room by a servant," said Marcel, getting up from the bed and walking away to the door, but suddenly he stops and turns around. "I would be lucky if I could do this for you."

"Even if you did, I'm not impressed and I won't sleep with you," Sophia replied with a giggle and turned on the lamp. Then she takes a seat on the bed and looks Marcel in the eye.

"We'll see, dear,” Marcel spoke and went back to the bed. “I feel and see that you are longing for a real man, who can give you everything you want."

"Darling, I want so many things!”

Sophia tilted her head to one side. Both felt the tension that crackled between them. They could no longer prevent their mouths from slowly approaching. Marcel wanted it as much as Sophia wanted it, but suddenly they were interrupted. Little Lyra appeared out of nowhere in the door. She was standing in the door wrapped in a blanket. Her eyes were half closed.

"Lyra, shouldn't you be sleeping already?" Marcel asked with a frown as he approached Lyra. He was a little angry, because he had Sophia almost ready to give herself to him passionately and devotedly. 

"I heard you talk when I was standing by the stairs, uncle," Lyra answers the question honestly.

"Lyra, you know your mama gets angry when you're not in bed," he said amused and shakes his head with a smile, "so I suggest we get you back quickly."

Marcel reaches under Lyra’s arms and lifted the girl up. She immediately snuggled up to him while her daemon clung to her neck. Then Marcel turned one last time.

"Sophia I ..." 

But Sophia puts her index finger on his lips, "that can wait. Bring Lyra back to bed.” She kissed him on the cheek. Then she sends him out of the room and locked the door.


	11. Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, Dialogue wickedness increased

Marisa Coulter first had to cope with the stress of her return from Geneva yesterday without Lord Asriel. She had also to think about how to continue with her life, because the current situation had changed once again after a surprise conversation with the cardinal in Geneva. 

Asriel had regain his privileges, his money, and his property as well.

Marisa herself was very surprised by this development. It wasn't the Magisterium that was responsible, it was her own grandfather. She almost didn't recognize him, because usually he wore a beard and was just as grim and stubborn as his daughter Stella. 

Also, Marisa doubted that Asriel had been the victim of an alleged procedural error. Asriel doubted too that this “procedural error” was real. It was definitely too easy to be true, but the document was real, so Asriel was a little glad that he was back in possession of his privileges and property.

Immediately after the meeting, he went to London to take care of a few little things. In the next few days, he would be returning to Oxford to decide with Marisa, where they would both live, but much to their displeasure, both had no power over Lyra. For now, the child would definitely stay with her grandmother and Marisa wanted to change that as soon as possible. 

She had already worked out a plan to change her mother's mind, so that Stella places the custody of Lyra back into the hands of her daughter, but Marisa knows this task would be difficult, because she had to earn the trust of her own mother first. 

If she couldn't change her mother's mind, she would fight for custody of, no matter how dirty the fight got.

In the battle for Lyra, she had Asriel by her side too, but very typical he also played his games, therefore, he still had to fear Marisa's love for her child. She would protect Lyra to the death. She would do anything for her child, even if she had to let the world burn and remove all obstacles between her and Lyra.

Now, on this beautiful morning, the sun was shining in Oxford for the first time in a few days. Marisa took the opportunity and sat currently with Lyra Louisa on the terrace, where she had taken her regular seat, which means that she was sitting in her very own rocking chair.

The gentle rocking of the chair calmed her and gave her time to think, while the sick Lyra slept safely, wrapped in a blanket , in Marisa’s motherly arms.

After a few minutes Marisa herself closed her eyes and falls asleep, but suddenly she opens her eyes and found herself in her mother's old house. She was now standing in the living room without Lyra in her arms.

"What the hell ...” Marisa wondered, “where am I? ... It can't be true, it's all just a dream."

"Would you expect anything else, Isa?” replied a soft sweet lady's voice.

Marisa turned as her daemon jumped off the floor into her arms. They both shake their heads to see more clearly. The light of the room still blinded them, but a few seconds later they saw more sharper than ever.

A woman was sitting in her mother's armchair. She was a little older than Marisa, had long brown hair, which reached up to her shoulders, and she possessed dark brown eyes, which sparkled in the light of the lamps. Marisa could also see that she was wearing a pink blouse with a long brown skirt. 

Her entire outfit had the flair of the 1940s, although Marisa knew it was 2005 - the current year.

"Who are you?" Marisa asked, coming closer.

"Oh, that's easy, Isa," replied the woman with a giggle. "Call me, Athena!"

"The Greek goddess from my mother's stories?" Marisa sounded surprised, thinking that it was a bad joke.

But the goddess was not joking, "Yes, I am the magical aunty from your mother’s stories. Besides, Isa, I should excuse the mother goddess, the almighty, Hera. Actually, she wanted to talk to you after she appeared to you in Askersund, but she has currently more important things to do, therefore, I have to do this, so please take a seat."

Athena snaps with the fingers … suddenly an armchair appeared behind Marisa's back and she was pushed into it with a gust of wind. She screamed even louder when suddenly the fireplace was burning.

"That is impossible!" Marisa yelled desperately in search of the truth and the goddess just shakes her head, annoyed.

"Is it that hard to believe it's happening?" Athena asked with a growl, near a tantrum. "What you see is real, I'm not doing this for fun, Isa."

"Of course, you do," Marisa replied gloomily.

She made herself more comfortable in the armchair. She crossed her legs, and the goddess snaps with the fingers once more. Suddenly Marisa was now holding a glass of wine in her hand. Her eyes widened and she immediately takes a sip, letting the wine flow over her tongue, then from half of her mouth to the other and after a few moments she was sure that it was really wine.

"That's not true!" Marisa takes another sip and the glass refilled itself.

"Magic Isa, don't try to find an explanation," Athena commented with a giggle.

She reaches for her glass, she leans back in the chair and her daemon, a majestic brown owl, lands behind the goddess on the back of her chair.

"Well, Marisa,” said the goddess, amused, “I'm very pleased with you so far.”

Marisa was unimpressed, "why, are you so very pleased with me?” She asked.

"You took the first successful step to a better … happier future by placing your daughter, Lyra Louisa, in the care of your mother," Athene explained relaxed to the curious Marisa. "A very smart decision, if I'm honest."

"Really?!" Marisa first chuckles devilish, but soon she grows serious, "Athena, my mother will never give Lyra up! My only chance to keep Lyra is to rebel against her."

“Isa … Isa … Isa, “Athena was really amused, laughing so loud that the echo hurt in Marisa’s ears. “This is where you make your first mistake, your mother is not your enemy."

“She is my enemy!” Marisa yelled at the goddess and immediately calmed down again with another sip of the wine. "My lovely mama wants to take my daughter away from me.”

“Please, don't think so badly of her," replied Athena with a smirk, giving Marisa the advice, "don't rebel against your lovely mama, Stella! You'd only make it worse … I'd rather be worried about Asriel if I were you."

"What about him?" Marisa asked, leaning forward as Oz pricks up his ears.

"He is not in danger, love, but you will see the rest yourself when things really get going …” Athena stops, knowing that Hera would get angry if she talked too much. She feared a tantrum of the mother goddess as much as the father of the gods Zeus himself.

But Marisa didn't care, "what happens when things start rolling?" She asked excitedly. She leaned forward and brought her hands together, waiting eagerly for Athena to continue, but the goddess taunted her with another giggle. 

She laughed at Marisa like Stella in Askersund. "If I told you everything, my dear, it would be too easy," replied Athena, “I won't tell you any more at the moment."

"I guess that's your standard answer,” Marisa assumed annoyed. She wants to know more, so she asked, “why are you giving me this information?"

"Let's just say the mother goddess herself has ordered me to give you, Marisa Marleen Emma Delamare, a little incentive to keep going."

Marisa nods in agreement. She didn't need any further incentive to continue. Lyra's love for her was enough, but something bothered her about the goddess's statement. 

Her face darkened and she fired back, "nobody is allowed to address me with my full name, only my daughter is allowed to call me by my full name."

"I don't care about that, I can call you whatever I want. I was there when you were born, you little spoiled brat."

Marisa sarcastically clapped her hands, "Nice for you that you were there. I hope you had fun and enjoyed a glass of wine with my mother, who at that moment pressed me out of her vagina. By the way, Athena, little spoiled brat is my fourth first name. "

“Watch what you say Isa,” the goddess spat maliciously. She threatened, “you will eat from your mother's hand, I promise. Stella will manipulate you and then finally there is a soap opera that I can watch relaxed every damned day.”

"My mother wants to manipulate me," Marisa pointed sarcastically at herself, "that's a really good joke, just like the Asriel joke you made.”

Athena grinned devilish, her eyes sparkled maliciously, "I'm not kidding, my dear child. I warned you, Isa, you better listen to me. In the end you will kneel with your daughter in your arms and worship me. You will pray too that I will help you out of your hopeless situation."

“Should this scare me now?” Marisa asked bored, looking at her nails.

“You have to decide for yourself, but I'll give you a foretaste.”

A loud thunder appeared, which shakes the house. Marisa hugged Oz tighter and she looks around anxiously, while the goddess played calmly with her perfectly red painted nails. She was indeed not very surprised that Marisa got scared. 

"Marisa, I can make your life hell if I want it," Athena said with a chuckle, rosing from the chair at the same time. "In the end you will shit your pants with fear, but today I will be merciful to you and ignore the fact that you insulted me."

Athena slowly approached Marisa, but a second clap of thunder stopped her, "I'm almost finished.” She said annoyed, looking up at the sky.

Another malicious loud thunder sounds, and the goddess was very irritated, "give me another minute, you self-centered bitch!”

Then a tremendous lightning struck next to the house that made the hedge burn and Athena sighed knowingly.

"All right, I'm sorry," she shouted to the sky, blushing with anger. "I'll be done in a minute. 

The owl daemon flows onto Athena’s shoulders as she reached Marisa, beaming at the young mother with a warm smile too. 

"Marisa ... Darling, I have to tell you something, which will confuse you very much, but I promise you, if you try a little hard and deal with your family history, you may understand.”

The goddess snaps the fingers and Marisa and Oz fell asleep on the spot.

Athena leans forward and with her delicate fingers tucked a strand of hair behind Marisa's ear. She looks at Marisa’s beautiful face for a few moments before she bends the head over Marisa's ear. She mumbles now a few words in ancient Greek, which Marisa hears in her sleep but did not understand. Then Athena switched back to English.

"You will have forgotten how I look, but it doesn't matter, you will remember this conversation and tonight you will be a good girl too and worship me." Athena said seriously and, even in her sleep, Marisa knows that she had better obey.

The goddess knows that too and had another important thing to say before she finally released Marisa.

"Now listen carefully to me, the most important thing is that you and your maternal family are of special blood." Athena said and ended the conversation. "We will meet again very soon AND NOW WAKE UP MARISA!"

Marisa immediately opened her eyes again and lifted her upper body. She was breathing hard and looks around. She was back on the terrace and immediately pressed her still soundly sleeping daughter closer to her. She remembered everything Athena had told her, and she had to deal with that first.


	12. New Chances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments,

In the following four days after the encounter with the goddess Athena, Marisa tried thoroughly to decipher the information the goddess had given her, however, much of what the goddess had told Lyra’s mother was still a mystery. Certain other things, on the other hand, were only indications of events, which could or will occur in the future. 

It was not easy for Marisa to draw logical conclusions from this. Especially, she had her problems with the ancient Greek words, which were whispered to her. She had therefore carefully noted it down and tried to decipher it with the help of books, but it didn't work very well, so she looked for other options.

But unfortunately, there was only one: “A historian ”

More precisely, Marisa was looking for an expert in ancient Greek history, but since the Magisterium had forbidden the study of pagans, it was very difficult to find one, but she had to realize that there was no expert in the whole of England, who was specialized in this field of history. She played the same game with Europe, but no expert could be found.

Marisa was a little angry about this result, but she couldn't give up, not now. The goddess was actively involved in her life now. She couldn't let that sit on her and she didn't want to be a pawn in a big game. So, she had to go on, but now was not the time to do it because there were other more important things to do.

* * *

The fourth day after the appearance of the goddess Athena

* * *

Marcel Delamare was sitting on this fourth day in his study on the second floor of the house when suddenly someone knocked on his door.

"The door is always open!" 

A few seconds later, with a low crack, the wooden door opened and the cardinal himself entered the study on the second floor of the house. 

“Grandpa?"

"Were you expecting one of your siblings?" Asked the cardinal.

"No, actually I was expecting little Lyra," admitted Marcel. "Sometimes she visits me, when she is allowed to get out of bed for a while."

“Speaking of Lyra, how is she doing?"

“A little better under the circumstances, grandpa," replied Marcel and watches closely the reaction of his grandfather, who seemed accordingly concerned. He just nods wordlessly in agreement before he slowly saunters over to the chair in front of the desk.

"Would you like a drink?” Asked Marcel courteously as his grandpa takes a seat.

"A small Tokay,” he answered, “but only a small one."

“All right!" 

Marcel pushes his chair back, reaches with the right arm into one of the drawers of his desk and takes out two glasses, which he placed on the table. Then carefully, he pours the 1898 Tokay into the two glasses and places one glass in front of his grandfather.

“Gramps, did you bring my favorite step-grandma with you?”

"Of course, replied the cardinal, laughing with joy. “She's out shopping with your older sister Margaret.”

Marcel signs annoyed, he didn't like his step-grandmother, Lady Grace Wilson, because she was intriguing and bossy. Concluded: no one liked her very much and that annoyed her husband, the cardinal himself, Sir Patrick Wilson.

"Marcel, stop this shit, you children have never accepted my wife like my own daughter or her husband," 

He said gloomily about the strained family relationships, but his grandson, however, does not appreciate these statement had his own opinion about Lady Wilson.

"This malicious woman made our lives hell when she was around," complained Marcel, leaning back in his chair. "She always had something to complain about. Whatever you did, it never satisfied her.”

"That’s not true!” Sir Patrick raged, “you're finally going to put aside your prejudices about her. You were the worst apart from Marisa, who was at least trying to develop a relationship with her.

"Grandfather …”

"Enough! I want to remind you that you children in particular were very attached to her at Christmas or on your birthdays," Sir Patrick pointed out. "She always treated you kids lovingly and bought you something when your parents weren't looking. My wife would do anything to you!"

"I got it!” Marcel got nervous, he tried to calm his grandpa, “I'll try to be a good grandson and I'll talk to my siblings!”

"I hope so," replied Sir Patrick and reaches into his briefcase, from which he takes out a brown file which he throws in front of Marcel. "Your best chance to protect your older sister and only niece."

“La Maison Juste”

Marcel read aloud and picks up the file as he places his legs on his desk and at the same time leans back in his chair. He reads now that La Maison Juste would become a new department of the Magisterium, with him as the leading director and completely independent from the other organizations of the Magisterium.

Marisa Coulter's “General Oblation Board” was one of these organizations, but the only one that was semi-private. Other Magisterium organizations formed under the blessing of the Holy Church were sometimes enemies and did not always agree with one another.

Marcel's other family members work in such organizations.

Margaret had an influential position with the Temple Hospitallers as a doctor. Matthew, who spent most of his time in the family business, was one of a few secret members of the Consistorial Court of Discipline.

Baroness (Lady) Stella Delamare, his mother, is a member of the Metropolitan Police Service, the only police organization of the whole British empire. She has the rank of a police commissioner and heads the authority as the highest official. Like her father, she belongs to the inner circle of the Magisterium. 

Stella’s husband, John Delamare, a member of the House of Lords, is also in an influential position that is further strengthened by his company, the Delamare Corporation .

Concluded: the whole Delamare house threatened to burst with power and Marcel knows that very well but …

"Does my mother know about this?" Marcel asked without looking up from the papers.

Sir Patrick leans back in his chair and takes a sip from his glass. He replied calmly, "Of course your mother knows about it, at the end of the report you will find a plane ticket to Geneva."

“All right! Where will I stay?” Marcel asked and closed the file. He tossed it back on the table and looks his grandpa in the eye.

“You can use your old room if you want," replied Sir Patrick, chuckling slightly. "I would be a bad grandfather if I didn't let my grandson live with me.”

“Agreed!” Marcel takes his glass and emptied it with one sip. “I will travel to Geneva with you and take care of the matter.”

"I wouldn't have expected anything else from my grandson either," said Sir Patrick and drained his glass.

* * *

* * *

Towards evening the large family had gathered to have dinner together, with the exception of Stella, who was still at work, and Marisa, who preferred to have dinner with Lyra in her study on the second floor of the house.

She felt it was justified not to subject Lyra to the stress of a family dinner already. She had noticed that her child was still uncomfortable with being watched from all sides. Lyra was particularly ashamed that she still had to be fed by her mother.

"Lyra, that people need to be fed is a common thing," Marisa explained to her daughter and tightened the knot of the bib. "Nobody is perfect, you don't have to be ashamed of that either."

“M.... mom... mommy, I… I f.... fe... feel like a b..... b.... ba... baby s..... s.... some... sometimes.”

Marisa starts to laugh, she massaged with the fingers tenderly Lyra’s golden hair before and gives with it her daughter a kiss on her snub nose.

“Lyra darling,” Marisa chuckles, “you're still a little baby, my lovely and enchanting baby.” 

Lyra nods in agreement, head bowed. Marisa's expression turned serious, she looks into Lyra's small, brown, tired eyes.

"Honey, I'll do everything I can to take proper care of you," said Marisa in a serious voice. She caressed the beautiful face of her daughter and continues, "I will wash you, cloth you, feed you, entertain you and if I must change your diapers too. If someone has a problem with it, I don't care. The most important thing is that you, my beloved baby, are happy and healthy."

Marisa takes Lyra in her arms, cuddles, and rocks the girl for the next few minutes. They were so close to each other that Lyra forgets everything that was around her. She just listened to her mother's soft voice, while the rocking movements, Marisa made, became more and more gentle and slow like a dance. 

Unfortunately, to Lyra's displeasure, the dinner was served soon by the chief butler Hugh, personally.

“Let's eat something, honey!" Marisa announced with a warm, loving smile on her face. 

She puts her daughter back in the chair and then she takes a seat at the table herself. Next, Marisa moves with her own chair closer to Lyra's side, then she begins to help her daughter with the dinner.

In the process, Marisa feeds her daughter as tenderly and lovingly as necessary. She tried to cheer the girl up too by making her temporary eating habits as comfortable as possible. She talked to her daughter a lot during dinner and encouraged her after every spoon to eat properly.

That had an effect, Lyra tried to make the four fish fingers with mashed potatoes disappear in her stomach. Unfortunately, she only managed half of her dinner, but her mother was happy with it. Lyra's health had improved that evening. That of course also improved Marisa's mood, she seemed happier, but then one thing came back to her.

“Bolvangar”

Fortunately for Marisa, Lyra had never heard of Bolvangar and it should stay that way. Marisa was still feverishly looking for a plausible explanation to trivialize her work. Lyra would soon be asking questions for which she should have a good and satisfying answer ready. 

If possible, Marisa didn't want to tell a lie. She just wanted to be as honest as possible, but that would be difficult. She definitely needed the help of her own family and of course the help of Lyra's father, Lord Asriel. 

"W.... wh... when is pa… papa c.... com… coming h.... ho… home?” Asked Lyra longingly.

"Papa will be back soon, my darling," Marisa replied and tells her daughter about her future plans. "Tomorrow we're going on a little trip to Jordan College with your Aunty Margaret to get your personal belongings.”

"S… sou… sounds g.... g... go.. good, m.... m… mama," Lyra said softly and lowered her head. Her hands trembled as she became more agitated.

Marisa in turn takes a sip of wine, "Lyra Louisa, my little star, I can tell from your reaction that you are uncomfortable going back to the famous college for, say, an hour.” She suspects and asks: “what bothers you?"

“W.... w... wh.. what if I s.... s... se.. see my f.... f... frie.. friends a... ag.. again?” Lyra asked worried.

“You just ignore them like they weren't there, just like your former teachers." Marisa said and suggested: “we can bring someone else with us if you want. Does it make you feel safer, darling?"

"I w..... wo... wou.. would r.... real... really a..... a.... ap... app.. appreciate th.. that.” replied Lyra with great effort. She was exhausted and gasped after every single spoken word.

"Breathe calmly .... drink something darling," Marisa picks up Lyra's bottle and handed it to her. Immediately, the child takes a sip, continuing to listen to her mother. “Who should come with us tomorrow?" Marisa asked.

Lyra set her bottle down and wiped her mouth clean. Pantalaimon whispered a few names to her, which were available, but Lyra already had already someone prominent in mind.

"My nana, Stella, mommy!” Lyra replied, smirking.

“All right, Lyra. I'll talk to her, Marisa announced and freed Lyra from her bib. "Now we're both going to take a bath.”

She takes Lyra into her arms and walks out of the room.

* * *

* * *

Later that evening, when the house was silent, Stella Delamare returned home. With her stylish black leather briefcase in hand, she entered the house and climbed the stairs to the second floor, with her daemon.”

Once there, Stella puts the briefcase aside for a moment. She loosened the white hair tie and lets her blond long curly hair fall over her shoulder. Next, she buttoned the jacket of her uniform and smooths the black skirt, she was wearing 

Afterwards, she picks up the leather briefcase and walks slowly into the corridor on the second floor. She passed her sons' two rooms, the boys' bathroom, and their study. Then she reached her destination, the room of her daughter youngest Marisa.

"Marisa?" 

Stella knocks once on the door and enters the room, but it was already dark and only the small table lamp provided some light.

"Mother!" Marisa steps into her field of vision, wearing already her white satin robe.

"I thought you were asleep," Stella spoke surprised.

Marisa giggled, "No, only your granddaughter is asleep. She's lying in my bed." 

She steps aside and Stella could now see Lyra, who was curled up on the bed. The cozy covers of her mother were tightly wrapped around her little body and Pantalaimon had snuggled up against her neck as always. For the first time in a long time, she sleeps stress-free and perfectly calm.

"Finally, a pleasant night," said Marisa softly, "whom I have less to fear as a mother."

"I can imagine that very well," Stella replied in a whisper. "Every morning you get up thinking that your child is doing a little better, but then you just get disappointed again.”

"Not today, mother." Marisa said, slightly annoyed, however, her mother smiled at her as she puts a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

"That's exactly how it is,” she replied, “I think it's a step forward that Lyra can finally sleep more peacefully."

With a nod, Stella moves away from Marisa. She places silently the leather briefcase on the small table and opens a window. Then she strolls back to the table and pours herself a drink.

"When you were younger, darling, I loved it to watch you, when you slept in your bed, when I always came home from my work.” Stella remembered wistfully, taking a sip. "I was always sitting in my chair next to your bed, still wearing my uniform. I could relax and put my feet up on your bed.”

“Much to the benefit of your rest, I rarely woke up,” Marisa adds.

“Yes, you did, dear. But when you did, you always asked what I was doing."

“That drove you crazy when you were stressed,” Marisa laughs, but softens suddenly. “Momma, I was always happy when you were by my side."

"I saw and felt it," Stella replied, softly. She walks to the armchair across from the bed, where she takes a seat. She crosses her legs and smiles at Marisa. “Darling, your father was never the guy, who sits almost every evening in his daughter’s room,” she said with a chuckle. “He was just too busy with his boys."

"We were always alone," said Marisa knowingly, preparing herself an alcoholic sleeping potion. "You raised us two crazy girls all by yourself.”

"Great Hera, you can't put it that way," Stella waved off. "Your father was there for you too ..... stupid old bear, he's softened. You should have seen him lying in bed with Lyra when he was reading to her.”

"We'll see those scenes more often in the future," Marisa anticipated, taking a sip.

"We will," Stella replied. She emptied her glass and chuckled, "but now it's time to go to bed for you too." 

Marisa's mother rose from her chair, steps behind her daughter and pushes her gently with a hand on the back towards the bed, but Marisa quietly complains that she was no longer a small child, but her mother insisted it was time to go to sleep for older girls too. 

Therefore, very reluctantly, Marisa takes off her satin robe and lies down to bed, before Stella spreads then the covers over her daughter’s body and takes a seat on edge of the bed.

"Do you want to hear a bedtime story, my mouse?" Stella asked, giving her daughter her alcoholic sleeping potion.

Marisa takes a sip, she replied like a child, "no, thanks, mommy! I'm out of age and you know it!"

Stella laughed softly, amused. She brushes a strand of hair from her daughter's face. Then she told her daughter the real reason for her visit.

"I heard that you wanted to ask me something”

“Right … Your granddaughter wants you to accompany her to Jordan College tomorrow.”

"As I suspected," said Stella with a chuckle, "of course I'll accompany both of you and my eldest daughter Margaret to the famous Jordan Collage."

Marisa raised an eyebrow, "I didn't expect anything else, mother.”

“I know myself enough to confirm that," Stella replied, taking the glass from Marisa, and cheekily empties it. “I’m also going to invite some friends over to the party.”

“Mama don't overdo it, I know only too well what you mean by that," She conjured her mother, but Stella didn't want to hear about it.

“Don't worry, Marisa, I know what I'm doing,” Stella sooths.

She gets up from the bed. She smooths Marisa's covers and leans over her daughter. Both are looking now deeply into their blue eyes, laughed at each other, and feel a certain affection for each other again, which was even stronger when Stella kissed her daughter good night. 

Then Stella saunters over to her granddaughter. 

She takes a seat beside her, lowers her hand as strand of her blonde hair fell into her face, which she quickly brushed behind her ear before she lowers her head, coming closer with her beautiful face to the child.

“Lyra …” 

Stella places her hand on the child’s checks, caressing it tenderly with her thumb before she slides with her other hand to Lyras forehead, brushing the hair, which was hanging in Lyra’s face, aside. Then she kisses Lyra first on the forehead, then she gives the child a kiss on the mouth, while she looks maliciously and devilish smiling at Marisa. 

The girl remains unaware of it and just moans in satisfaction as her face showed a smile.

"Sleep well my angel," Stella whispered, sliding Lyra's covers tighter around her. "Grandma loves you more than anything in the world, you are my world. Always remember that, my little star!”

Stella raises back to her feet and looks at the pale Marisa. She had feared that her mother would now take Lyra with her, but she didn't. Stella just sauntered back to the table and picks up her leather briefcase, then she walks to the door and opens it, but suddenly she stops in the doorframe, looking out of the corner of the eye to Marisa.

"If you honestly think,” Stella said softly, “that I would do what you think, then you are wrong. I am not a cold beast nor a monster. What I have done or will do, I only do for the sake of both of you. I hope you can understand it when we've talked about it. Good night, my beloved daughter.”

"Okay! Good night, mama!”

Marisa wraps her arms around Lyra. She pulls her daughter to her, who was very pleased to snuggle up to her again. Stella leaves the room and quietly closes the door. She walks afterwards upstairs into her apartment, to her husband's study.


	13. Homecoming or How I Invade A College

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments, making the events more dramatic

The tower clock struck 10 a.m. on this rainy day at Jordan College. The many scientists and residents of the most famous collage went about their daily work as usual and everything seemed as it always was.

“Calm and sleepy”

But today there would be something waiting for those present that the college had never seen before.

First, nine SUVs reached the college. It didn't seem like anything special, but then each five heavily armed men with assault rifles got out of first cars. They lined up and formed a circle around the college, while their daemons stalked back and forth in front of them.

All the men and woman who had a rifle in their hands kept a close eye on those present. Any provocation from the residents against the men and woman, even if she were so small, would be punished, because these forty-five men and women weren't normal mercenaries - they were police officers of the Metropolitan Police Service, Stella Delamare's private army. 

She herself reaches the college in the 10th SUV with granddaughter Lyra and her two daughter’s Marisa and Margaret in tow.

As soon as the SUV stops, the male senior officer of the team of police officer’s rushed to the car and opens the door for the big boss.

“Ma'am, we are ready.”

Stella nods wordlessly, she gets out of the car first before her two daughters followed the mother one after the other. Little Lyra was the last to get out, but as soon as she is standing on the stone floor she clasped her mother's gloved hand tightly. 

She was simple afraid of the great and historic walls of the college, because the many traumatic memories she remembers now are slowly replacing the joyful memories she shared with her best friend Roger.

"Lyra darling,” Marisa goes onto her knees and puts her hands-on Lyra's shoulders. “It’s okay if you are afraid. You don't have to do this if you don't want to." 

Lyra’s grandmother, Stella, who was standing behind her daughter, offers Lyra, “just say one word, sweetie, and you're on your way home."

Lyra turns pale, she seeks hastily the distance and the conversation with her daemon, Pantalaimon.

"Lyra, if you're scared, please, let it be,” Pan says to her, climbing onto her shoulder. 

Lyra in turn caresses him and fells with her tender fingers his soft monkey fur. "I k.... k... kn.. know Pan,” she replies sadly and whines, “I .... I ... I just do.. don't w... wa.. want … to … hi.. hide.”

"Lyra, you're not doing that,” Pan assures his best friend. “You have every right to avoid this college after what happened in the past.”

"I k.... k... kn.. know ...." 

Lyra puts her hands in her pockets. She doesn't know what to answer and that torments her. Her mother, standing a few meters away, feels deeply inside that a conflict is going on in her child.

"Lyra, come here, darling." Marisa calls and the girl obeys. 

Both are now looking in each other eyes and communicate wordlessly with each other.

After a few minutes, Lyra says aloud, "I'm c.... c... com.. coming w.... w... wi.. with you.”

"Lyra, are you sure?" Asked her mother, frowning worriedly.

Lyra nods, "Yes, I’m sure, let's go." She replies in a confident voice without stuttering.

“All right!” 

Stella gave the order and the little family, which was present walks to Lyra's room, accompanied by a twelfth-man security team, who separated from the thirty-three other team members. The actual way through the college was long and not very arduous, but the Delamares / Metropolitan Police invasion attracted attention.

Everyone in the area, scientists, staff, and residents, are watching very suspicious the strange event. It certainly doesn't happen every day that a famous and very wealthy family goes to a prestigious college and spreads horror. Everyone also recognizes little Lyra. She had her head bowed and was led by her attentive mother, erasing any doubt that Lyra had found her family.

Her grandmother underlined the statement when she introduced Lyra as her grandchild in front of everyone present, including the master himself Dr. Carne, who was watching the event from a safe distance. He was, of course, seen by Stella, when she turns around in front of the stairs and looks him straight in the eyes, very angrily.

"You know what to do!"

Stella gave the order, and the team did what was discussed in the meeting, they take positions around the stairs and the entrances to the Lyras room. Nobody should disturb the Delamares as they slowly climbed the stairs. In the stairwell, however, it was very narrow and stuffy, so Marisa was forced to carry her weak and still very sick daughter upstairs. 

When Lyra finally walks with her own feet into her old room, it felt so strange to be there. The room suddenly seemed sparsely furnished, Lyra saw it better, when she was standing in the middle of the room.

She had her closet on the wall on her left. Her bed was in the corner about two meters away. Seven shelves were attached to the walls, four of which hung around the window. Various things were pinned to the left of the wall, including a map, newspaper clippings, old magazine photos and a few postcards from her father. On the wall to the right hung seven portraits of explorers, along with a few old pictures and a map of Oxford hang over the little dresser.

Everything seemed so familiar and yet so repulsive to Lyra. Sure, it was enough for her when she was younger and she feels herself at home when she sat on the bed, but that feeling quickly vanished. She now feels herself like she was in an unfamiliar room, longing for her new nursery, which awakened peace and security in her. She longed for her cozy cuddly blanket and her cuddly toy. She longed for everything too that was meaningful to her in her grandmother's house.

A little desperate, she then tried to remedy the situation with the old blanket she loved so much which she presses to her heart, but this particular blanket couldn't provide the feeling she longed for. 

Lyra realized that nothing in the room made her feel the way she wanted it to be.

So, she just watches her relatives without emotion as the three women entered the room one after the other. Lyra’s grandma, who was the last to enter the room, remembered something. 

"Until our Lyra was three,” she said gloomily, “the room looked very different.”

Marisa turned to her mother, she asked, "how exactly mother?”

"Marisa ...", Stella sighed, looking at her feet, depressed and embittered. 

Still, she hated it when she was forced to remember those old days, which were just a few painful memories that she tried to forget, but she was able to bring herself to talk about it … to talk about a time, which never should have existed. 

"Darling … the wallpaper was already peeling off, when I first visited Lyra in this very room, almost five years ago,” she begins to explain. “There was only a small wardrobe, and Lyra didn't even have a single shelf. I provided then funds to fix the room as it is now."

“I … I … am v… very g…. gra… grate… grateful … to … you f…. for th… this g…. gran… grandmama.”

“That was the least I and Grandpa Fox could do, my little star,” Stella replied with wet eyes. “I should never have let you live in this dirt lot. You deserve much better, my daughter.” 

Silently without another word, she takes a seat on the bed and looks Marisa straight in the eye without changing her expression.

Marisa did the same, she just nods to her mother in understanding and steps on the spot with her head bowed, thoughtful. She herself was watched by Lyra who was now lying on the bed, her hands placed under her head.

“M.... m... mom.. mommy?"

“Yes, darling!” Marisa raises her face, she asked, “what's on your mind?”

“Y.. you l.... l... lo.. look sad,” noted Lyra with a frown.

Her mother just shrugged her shoulders in return, she replied, "no, I'm just a little thoughtful … play with Grandma." 

Marisa turns off her ears, removes the black leather gloves from her hands, and devoted herself to the room. She now looks around and examines various valuables from Lyra, however, Marisa only feels pain when she picks up something that was in the room. She sensed it because she was Lyra's mother, she had already established a connection to things even though she had never been here before.

Slowly she realizes now too that Lyra's few toys and everything else in the room were just old, dirty, and completely unsuitable for her. 

No child in the world deserved this, but Lyra was affected, which made Marisa so very angry as a mother, that her anger she had built up increased immeasurably until the, pure and maliciously, boiling anger unleashed in the form of a wave of Marisa’s hand, which cleared one of the bookshelves.

The books itself crashed loudly on the wooden floor and Lyra winced just like her grandmother who turns around, startled.

"Marisa?!" Stella calls angrily, “What's the matter with you?”

"Sorry mother, my hand just slipped,” Marisa says with a smirk, pushing at the same time the books aside with her black boots.

"Alright,” Stella mumbles, turning back to Lyra, “watch what you do next time, please!”

"I will, mother” 

With a slight nod, Marisa walks then to her sister, Margaret, who was already waiting eagerly for her at the wardrobe.

“What do we have here?”

Both sisters opened the wardrobe together, but suddenly a unpleasant old smell rose in her noses, more precisely the scent of the wood, which forces Margaret and her younger sister, Marisa, to turn their noses away in disgust. 

They take a deep breath before both are turning back to the wardrobe and rummaged around in the old clothes, feeling exactly what clothes were just cheap and worn, … just everything in this wardrobe and Marisa immediately remembers what she had said to Asriel, back in Svalbard.

"Just a few rags as clothes, Meg!”

"You’re dam right, Isa,” Margaret growls horrified. “How could Lyra’s own father let this happen?" 

Marisa sighs, "Asriel never really noticed it.”

"I can imagine that," Margaret agreed and pulls a few smelling old dresses out of the wardrobe and hands them to her mother.

Stella takes and throws the clothes onto the bed. She carefully inspected now the clothes with her delicate hands, feeling exactly what her daughters had felt, which angered her so much that she throws the old, deep red children's dress, in anger, on the floor. 

"Lyra, who made you to put on those disgusting clothes?" Stella asked, not very pleased with her hands on her hips.

Lyra herself averted her eyes, "Mrs. L… Lon… Lonsdale, it … w… was … Mrs. Lon… Lonsdale” 

"What?!" Stella reacts horrified, she knows Alice, the housekeeper, vaguely and had actually been quite pleased with the work she delivered, but Lyra's answer changed her mind. "Tell me, darling,” Stella signs, “when in your life have you ever worn proper clothes, except for now?"

"W.... w... wh.. when p.... p... pa... papa c.... ca... came to v.... vi... visit me, nana”

Her aunt, who overheard the conversation, steps back from the wardrobe, and approached her niece. “When did your father ever had visited you?" Margaret asked with a poisonous voice.

"W.... w... when.. whenever he c... ca.. came b... ba.. back f.... fr... from the n.... n... no.. north," Lyra replied sadly, "or his t.... t... tra.. travels to o... oth.. other c.... co... cou... countries.”

Margaret nods, crossing her arms, she asked next, "has he ever seen this room or, rather, spent some time with you in this room?”

"No," Lyra shakes her head, "we a... alw.. always sp... spent s.... s... so.. some t... ti.. time e.... ei... either o.... out... outside or in h.... h.. his s..... s.... st... stu... study.” She replied with a gasp. It was truly an effort to pronounce the long sentences.

Margaret notices this, "all right, take a rest darling." She walks back to her sister, with whom she kept to talk softly, "I can't believe it. He neglected his child."

"He knows that himself, he just did it to protect her,” Marisa defended her lover. “Lyra was never supposed to get attached to him.”

Margaret's face twisted maliciously, she spat, "Marisa, that's no excuse."

"I know!" Marisa replied, gritting her teeth as she bows her head, tired of the past. "I played this game for years and I had to stay away from my daughter. Do you think it was easy for me?"

"No, of course not, my bunny. I’m so sorry!" Margaret briefly hugs her sister and kissed her comfortingly. Then she turns around and opens the small suitcase for Lyra's belongings. She says honestly, "I've always admired you."

"That's probably, because I'm the smarter one of the two of us," Marisa scoffed. 

Her sister in return puts a hand on her shoulder. "Isa, you may be smarter than me,” Margaret chuckled, “but don't overestimate yourself!”

“I could say the same about you and Matthew,” Marisa smirked. 

“I could say the same about you and Marcel, sis," Margaret said with a shrug and pointed to her sister. "I still remember, when we had to pull you both out of the pond, because you couldn't swim at that time.”

Both laughed out loud briefly and continued then wordlessly to put Lyra's most important things in the suitcase. Lyra herself was very fond of these old things. They were the only things that still reminded her a little of Roger. She could count these few items by hand, so it was so quick to place them into the suitcase.

Marisa then only had to close and lock the suitcase. Both sisters breathed deeply relieved as her mother rises back to her feet.

"Get out, ladies." Stella said to her daughters, who then followed her out of the room, with the exception of her granddaughter, who stayed in her old room a little longer. 

She looks longingly out the window, a special window from, which she used to climb out to get on the roof, where she had spent many hours when she was not chased by Mrs. Lonsdale or tutored by a scholar like Charles the librarian.

On the roof Lyra felt herself free, free from her worries and from all the attacks of hatred she had to endure when she was outside on the streets of Oxford to play. Lyra tried to forget these bullying attacks and suppress the pain, which was caused until, of course, the pain got too big to endure, which forces the child to burst into tears as she does now.

She chases out of the room and sobs and screams so loud that her mother, who was waiting in the corridors below, could hear it.

“Lyra!”

Marisa drops the suitcase and chased immediately with quick and banging steps up the stairs until she found herself in the middle of the stairwell, where she meets Lyra.

"Mama!!!" 

Lyra jumps into her mother's arms, her daemon in the open arms of Oz who couldn't believe what he was feeling.

"It's over Lyra,” said Marisa softly, cuddling and kissing the loud screaming child to bring her to rest. "You will never see this place again.”

“I ... I .. I k... kn.. know, bu.. but I'm s…. so, s.... s... sc... scared!” Lyra replied, crying out once more in pain as she wailed, “I .... I ... I w... wa.. want ... to ... go ... h... ho.. home, m.... m... ma.. mama.” 

She continues and gasps heavily after the effort of speaking, but she also starts to fidge like crazy in her mother's arms.

“Shhhhhhh ..... Lyra .... Louisa, my star, I am here! Come to rest, honey!” 

Worriedly, Marisa grips the crying child in her arms tighter. She whispered soothing words to her, and sang to her, so quiet that only her daughter could hear and soon it works, and the girl stops to move. She clings to her mother and she whines like a baby, but the sweet smell of her mommy made Marisa’s baby fell silent for the moment.

“That's a good girl!" Marisa kisses Lyra on her cheek then on her mouth. Lyra in return nestles closer to her mother as she silently cries, but she is finally silenced by another kiss from Marisa on her mouth. "Darling, close your eyes, rest,” she whispers soothingly, “Mama will bring you to safety now.” 

As soon as the last word was spoken Oz dashes ahead, while Marisa follows with quick steps to the ground floor, where Stella was already waiting.

“Is everything okay with Lyra?” Stella asked worriedly, leading Marisa to the side.

“Yes, mama,” Marisa replies softly, hugging her daughter more firmly and protectively. “The excitement, which my little baby is feeling was too much for her. She has to go home, mommy!”

“Okay, You and you’re sister are taking two of my people. You will walk to the car without stopping .. I will make sure that this college will never forgets this day."

Stella moves away from her daughter. She takes the radio and gives her two sons the signal to do the job. Then she waves the remaining ten squad members over to her and walks with them up the stairs for the last time. Arrived in Lyra’s room, Stella was already boiling with rage.

"Dismantles the room down to the foundation walls!!” She yelled and the six men and four women nodded. 

She herself leaves the room afterwards and closed her eyes in front of the stairs. The next thing she hears were loud deafening noises.

"Renovation works." Stella says sarcastically to the few spectators and turns back towards the room as her eyes were firing devilishly and the chaos … was in full swing. The bed had been dismantled and the wardrobe and dresser smashed to pieces.

“Keep going," Stella clapped her hands and cheered, "Lyra should be proud of you.”

“Don't worry, ma'am,” officer Ferrington called to her and the noises got louder.

Stella's daemon, the chimpanzee, jumps to her side and sits down on the parquet.

"Stella"

Stella turns around, she leans her slim body against the door frame and puts her tender hands in her pockets, looking bored. 

“Napoleon?"

“Couldn't you have done it more cleverly,” Napoleon scoffed.

Stella chuckles in amusement, "no … no, I didn't think it was appropriate,” she replies with a shrug. “They only understand the language of violence.” 

The shelves came down from the wall on their left. Stella looks briefly on the floor then back to her daemon, smiling mischievously.

“Very earth-shattering.”

“Maybe.”

The men and women went on, smashing anything that could be turned into scrap. The drama continued too and lasted for a few more minutes until the room was completely destroyed.

"That's exactly what I imagined!" Stella commented, very satisfied. She enters the room and looks around before she and her daemon pointed outside at the same time. "There are a few more rooms on this floor, ladies and gentlemen! Do your fucking job, let’s go!”

She called and the team carried on along with the remaining thirty-three men and women who came up the stairs. They destroyed everything they could get their hands on while Stella still stands in Lyra’s old room but was soon not alone anymore.

"Mother!"

"Son?" Stella turns around and sees that her son, Matthew, was standing in the door. "What are you doing here, darling?” She asked with a frown. “I thought you were downstairs with your little brother."

“Marcel sent me up!” He explained, stepping up to his mother. "We're almost done with our area. Shall we move on?"

"No, that's enough for today,” Stella replied and patted her son on the shoulder.

Matthew smiled in return, he asked, "shall we leave something behind?"

"Of course, here is your search warrant for alleged terrorist activity," Stella hands the document to Matthew, which was signed by the inner circle of the Magisterium. "Go now and continue for another ten minutes. Then you will leave this shithole with your brother and meet me at the car, darling."

Matthew nods silently and vanishes down the stairs. Stella herself continues to monitor her employees, convincing herself that they were doing it right as she lets the dedicated men and women do their duty for another ten minutes before she lets them gathered around her.

"That should be enough, ladies and gentlemen.”

Stella reaches into the pocket of her black coat and takes out a cheque book. Satisfied, she wrote a small amount on the paper, carefully tore off the finished cheque, and nailed it to the door with a knife along with the second search warrant.

"Fuck you, bastards!” 

The delighted group laughed out loud as Stella swore which made the woman, the big boss, to giggled a little herself, but quickly she shows the same and old expression.

“Everyone back to their cars, please," she points outside and begins to wave her people out, but she calls too, "I expect your reports on my desk by tomorrow morning. Everyone who misses it can forget his vacation!”

"Yes, ma'am," they all shouted loudly and withdrew from the room led by a satisfied Stella, who reunites at the car with her family and leaves the college for Today, but not for the last time.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments

Another hour passes on this special day. John Delamare, who had stayed home, was currently working through some documents.

"Take a break, John, I beg you," Athena advised him, “You work since nine o’clock, since the breakfast.”

"My girl, I really should be taking a break” John replied with a chuckle, “but I'm working on something very important that needs my attention."

"I don't think …" Athena pricks up her ears, she hears footsteps echo. Immediately, she rose from the floor and looks out of the open door. What she saw made her smile happily, "I think John, you are needed now."

“Who wants something from me, hm?" John asked with a sigh.

He rises from his armchair, quickly takes another sip of scotch, and walks shortly afterwards to the door. His wife, who was holding Lyra in her arms, appeared in his field of vision.

"I wasn't expecting you back so soon," John called, leaning against the door frame. "Where's my dear daughter, Marisa?" 

“She went to London to her apartment.”

John nods in agreement and made a guess, “I think grandma has to look after her grandchild today.”

"I don’t think so," Stella replied with a chuckle. She steps up to her husband and places carefully their granddaughter in his arms, “honey, you will take care of Lyra!”

John frowned, he looks at the sleeping Lyra who snuggles closer to him. Quietly, he complained, “Stella I ... I ... I have to work!”

“Don't make a drama out of it,” Stella said annoyed, pulling him with her to Lyra's nursery. “Just put her in bed and stay with her for a while, let's say half an hour."

“All right, my darling, what should I do then?”

“Then, my darling ….” Stella says, brushing a strand of hair from his face, "you will walk into our bedroom. I'm waiting for you there, honey!” 

With a low cheekily chuckle, Stella walks very slowly in style to her bedroom, while her hair is falling artfully over her shoulders. When she finally turns around in the doorway, she runs her tender left hand through her blond hair. She brushes it to one side while her brilliant blue eyes attracted her husband.

“Why?” John pounds, “Please are you so …”

Smirking in response, Stella opens just for him the cream-colored blouse, she wore, just a little, but very seductively.

John in return begins to sweat, which showed his nervousness clearly and his wife likes that very much. She chuckles mockingly and closes very slowly the bedroom door with her foot.

"God in heaven!" John looks at Athena, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Athena, I suggest, we get Lyra to bed, very quickly.”

Lyra's grandpa turns around and walks into her room, where he lies the girl down on the bed and carefully spreads the covers over her body. 

"Don't you dare to wake up, little mouse,” He whispers. 

Quietly, he moves away from the bed and takes a seat in the armchair next to the bed, but suddenly the chimpanzee appeared in the room and brought John his papers and a pen to write.

"Tell her that I will put her over my knee!" John growled, snatching his things from the chimpanzee.

In the meantime, Athena stretches her strong body out at his feet and saw with sad eyes the chimpanzee disappear again while she herself holds out a paw and purred gently, longing just for a short touch.

"Stay calm, girl," John petted her soothingly, "Stella has started the game and we will finish it."

"For sure, Fox," purred Athena, she closed her eyes and rested.

Five slow minutes passed, ten excruciating minutes, and then time seemed to stop. Lyra's grandfather couldn't think about his work, his wife had just twisted his head.

“I cannot stand it any longer!” 

John puts his hands over his face, but suddenly he hears a noise, a familiar click of heels. The apparent relief appeared out of nowhere in the form of Stella herself. She appears in the doorway and giggled, but moments later she vanishes again.

"This woman is driving me crazy!” John said with a sigh, "I've have enough of her games." 

He gets up, undid his tie, tosses his papers on the chair, and walks out of the room. His wife was already standing in front of the bedroom door with a smile on her face. 

"Honey, you have twenty minutes left,” Stella said pouting, tapping her watch cheekily.

Her husband stayed calm, "I don't care," he replied calmly. "Our beloved granddaughter is sleeping.”

"But I can wake our little star up," she threatened with a giggle. "It would be a shame if my little Fox doesn't get what he wants."

"You little beast!" John pushes his wife into the room, he closed the door, and bolted it. But Stella grabs him from behind. She kisses his neck, takes his hands, and leds it backwards. Then she reaches into one of her pockets of her long black skirt and a soft click sounded moments later. 

John suddenly feels something cold and metallic around his left wrist. "Is that what I think, sweetheart?" He asked, chuckling.

"Of course, it is," replied Stella seductive, she let go of his hands and puts them, moments later, around his body. "Darling, I heard from my daemon that you wanted to put me over your knee, a weak and poor little woman!”

John laughed out loud in amusement, "unfortunately, I don't think that will happen today." He turned to his wife, smirking.

Stella laughed back, she puts the left hand on his arm, “you're right about that. Today you'll do whatever I want, Fox," she giggles softly and slowly pulls her husband onto the bed with her.

* * *

Two hours passed

* * *

Stella lays on the floor together with her husband, both were wrapped in fur covers and the glowing fire of the fireplace crackled softly in front of them.

"The message was delivered, my darling!” 

"How did Marisa react?" John asked, snuggling closer and putting an arm around his wife’s slim body. 

Stella in return turns around. She raises her head and lets it fall on her bent hand. “Our Isa just couldn't believe it,” she replies with a smirk. “She was a little bit upset too, because I had Lyra's old room renovated.”

“She'll get over it,” replied John, bored. “Has she done something else conspicuous?"

Stella nodded omnisciently, "I noticed when we were in Lyra's old room that our little pumpkin is slowly finding her rage against … Asriel.”

“Really?” John looks surprised.

“Ohhhhh, Yes," Stella noted with a giggle, she kissed her husband lovingly and adds to her statement. "You should have seen her eyes, they fired like yours … Honey, the Pure anger was written over her face. She even cleared a shelf with her hands.”

"That's very good," repeated John several times, seeming relieved. 

The plan he had worked out begins to start slowly as the seeds of hatred were sown. Now it was a matter of let these seeds grow. 

"Honey,” John puts his finger’s on her cheek. “You have to keep influencing Isa, like you did last night."

"I can't do that with Asriel around,” Stella shakes her head, annoyed. “Isa, would only draw further away from me."

"Stella ... my shining star ..." John played with one of her blond curls, "did anything ever stop you from shaping your daughter?"

"Of course not," Stella replied knowingly, "she's just stubborn like you sometimes. It will definitely take a little more time to get our daughter on our side."

"All right!" 

John lets his head fall gently on the pillow. His wife frees herself from her covers and climbs on top of him as John raised his head and puts his arms behind it. His eyes were now fixed on his cheeky smirking wife.

“What are you up to Lady Delamare?” He asked with the same kind of a smirk.

“I'm not sure about that yet!” Stella replied, bowing her head, and giving him a kiss. 

Her husband pulls her close, feeling her warmth, her soft hair and smelling her sweet scent that already had cast a spell over him and Lyra.

“What are you sure about?” John asked in a whisper. 

He puts a strand of her hair behind her ear with two fingers and returned her kiss. His arms wanted to hold hers, but Stella grabs his hands and pressed it to the floor. Then she looks into his eyes, slowly her face came closer and she replied in a whisper in his ear …

"I am sure that I'll play the loving mother-in-law.”

"Oh Fuck …. God in heaven, Stella?!”

“He will not help you! You will put up with it,” Stella replied. “You will play the loving father-in-law.”

"All right … as you wish, my shining star."

Stella let go of his hands, John puts them around her body and then pushed his covers over her as their mouths got closer, their daemons snuggled together, and John and Stella kissed each other. 

“Fox …” Stella moaned with pleasure, “The little one …”

“Is still soundly asleep, don't worry!” 

John pulls her to the floor and adjusts the covers before he dedicates himself to his wife who moans lustfully as he presses her body against him. Stella herself closes her eyes and lets herself go as both were very close for the next few more minutes before their lust increased to the highest level, her movements and the kisses intensified, and their daemons played their game together. 

Stella lifts, moments later, her upper body one last time and moans softly, then she drops back onto him, panting just like her husband. 

"We should do that more often," she said, very pleased with her performance.

John laughed in amusement, "Yeah, but like now in front of the fireplace. I ….” Suddenly there was a knock at the door, "who disturbs?" Asked John loudly.

"I'm so sorry Lord Delamare, but Lyra wants to see you!" Sophia calls through the door.

John sighs and Stella crawls off him. They gathered some clothes together and put them on, then Stella herself walks to the door, adjusted her hairstyle, and finally unlocks and opens the wooden door to the hallway.

“Come in, Lyra.”

Lyra's Grandmother steps aside, Lyra herself moves away from Sophia and enters the room. She looks first at her seated grandfather and then back at her grandmother.

"Nana!"

"Lyra, my star, what do you have on your lovely mind, hm?” Stella asks and closes the door before she buttons the white shirt, which belonged to her husband a little further to hide the black bra, she was wearing, 

“Nana …” Lyra looks up at her grandma. Her eyes were moist as she wraps her arms around her grandmothers bare legs as tightly as she could.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" Stella asks worriedly, massaging Lyra's hair with her left hand as her eyes turned to her husband, who just shrugged. Then she looks back at Lyra, who was now silent. Stella sighed, she places two fingers under Lyra's chin, and pushed it up, she said then with a raised eyebrow, "Lyra Louisa, please, answer me!"

“W.... wh.. when I ... I w... wo.. woke up,” the child wailed, “my m... ma.. mama w.... w... was.. wasn't t.... t... th.. there.”

“All right … we're looking for her when I am dressed, honey," Stella replied with a deep breath and reaches for Lyras little hand. She then leds the girl to the fireplace, “lie down next to grandpa.” She demanded, calmly.

Lyra in turn follows the instruction silently, while her grandmother moves away and walks past the bed and enters her large dressing room.

“Are you lying comfortably, monkey?” John asked, wrapping his wife's covers tighter around Lyra.

"Of c.... c... cou.. course, g.... gra... grandpa!" Lyra chuckled, snuggling into the covers after which her whole body was gone, except for her little head which peeked out together with her daemon.

"Are you doing well?" John asked, next.

"M… m… my il... illn.. illness is s... st.. still bo..... bot... bother.. bothering me," Lyra replied to his question with a negative shake of the head. 

Afterwards she buries herself under the covers but was quickly pulled back to the light by her grandfather who puts his arms around her as she moves closer to him.

"Lyra, you almost got through it,” John says soothingly and reassuring, “Your symptoms are slowly disappearing, and the medication is working."

"Hmm OK." Lyra grunts in response, she snatches the covers again and buries herself even tighter, but her grandfather, who likes it when Lyra played this game, opens the covers easily with a amused chuckle. 

“Lyra, please, don't give up hope," John kissed her and offered her tempting, " When you're fully recovered, we will both go wherever you want to go. You have the free choice and, my little monkey, always remember that your beloved grandma, this malicious house fox, cannot do anything about it.”

Lyra grinned mischievously for the first time, she replied happily, “I w.... wa... want to .. go .. to the f…. fu… funf.. funfair.”

“All right, monkey.” John replied, hearing the soft click of his wife's heels. Immediately his gaze turns to the door of the dressing room where Stella walks out, wearing a gray cashmere sweater together with comfortable black trousers, very unusual for her.

"Look at this woman ... she's just lovely!" Said John softly to his granddaughter. 

Both giggled moments later and hid under the covers as Stella passed the bed and stops in front of the grandpa / grandchild duo.

“Come, Lyra, your grandpa still has work to do.”

Stella goes on her knees, she frees Lyra from the covers and takes her granddaughter in her motherly arms. Then she walks to the door in a relaxed manner and leaves the room to enter the silent hallway. Then Stella passes the many rooms of the apartment until she steps through the door that leds to the stairs. 

She calls for Marisa, but no one answers so she walks down the stairs to the ground floor. Once there, both grandmother and granddaughter are looking for the chief butler Hugh, who was near the large living room.

"Hugh, is my you youngest daughter back home?" Stella asked 

"No, I'm sorry, Lady Delamare,” Hugh replied politely. “She apologizes and won't be back until evening, but Lord Asriel is on the first floor.”

"Thank you" 

Stella walks back up the stairs until she reaches the first floor and carefully opens the door and steps into her father’s former apartment.

"Asriel, are you there? I have Lyra with me!”

Lord Asriel looks curiously out of the bedroom. "I'm here," he called loudly.

“The bedroom, dear,” Stella says, placing Lyra back on her feet. "Now be a good girl and go to your father."

"T… th.. thank y.. you, nana!" 

Lyra gives her grandma a quick hug and walks slowly towards her father with Pan in her arms. Halfway through, she turns around again and waves to her grandma. Stella smiled back with one hand in her pockets and still she had something on her mind.

“Asriel, make sure that she rests. The day was exhausting for her.”

“I take care of it.” Asriel replied with a nod.

"All right, Marisa will be back in the evening,” Stella calls and withdraws from the apartment. 

Lyra and her father watch her before both are turning to each other, “come here, my little monkey," Asriel says and holds out his hand.

Lyra quickly runs to him. Her father in return caught with a smile and picks her up. Then both entered the old-fashioned bedroom.

* * *

* * *

Marisa returned home, she enters the house and was greeted directly by Lord Asriel, who was looking down on her from the first floor.

"Hi sweetheart,” Asriel greeted with a smirk. 

"Good evening, my darling,” Marisa waved to him, “I hope, I haven't given myself too much time."

"No, everything is fine, Lyra is resting respectively sleeping and I've made myself a bit at home."

"I hope you like it here," Marisa said with a chuckle, giving her coat to a clerk before she walks up the stairs.

Her daemon, Oz, chases ahead and is the first one of the two who reaches the first floor, where he immediately united with Stelmaria. Both had not seen each other for a while, so they touched each other lovingly as their heads are rubbing against each other.

"I'm glad you're back," Stelmaria greeted overjoyed.

But Oz was less in the mood, "I know that!” He said and complained to her: “I would be earlier with you if Marisa wasn’t Marisa today!” 

“What happened?”

“Lovely Marisa dawdled, while packing up her things in our old apartment."

Stelmaria frowned, "did she bring her entire wardrobe with her?”

“No, certainly not," Oz chuckled. "She hold herself back unusual, which means that she brought “just a few clothes” from her wardrobe together with things that are important for her. Also, she brought some clothes for our little Lyra, everyone’s darling.”

“But the little one has everything what she will need!” Said Stelmaria, pointing out that Stella had already taken care of everything.

Oz however just shakes his head, he knows that: "Marisa just wants that Lyra feels comfortable when she lives here, which is why she brought the clothes and toys for Lyra with her from our old apartment in London.”

"I see, did she cry, when she was in her old apartment?” Stelmaria asked, worried. “I can see that she is a little tense.” 

Oz turns around, watching Marisa as she talks to Asriel. "I don't think that she cried,” He said somewhat sadly. "She was mental composed when she entered Lyra's second old room.”

“I hope so," said Stelmaria, rubbing her head against Oz who purred satisfied. "As much as I hate to admit it,” she adds, “I hate it to see when she cries for Lyra.”

"Is that Asriel speaking from you, right now?” Asked Oz, climbing onto Stelmaria.

Stelmaria purred laughing, shaking her head, "Oz we are them,” she explained. “Of course, we speak like them. They also know what we're talking about.”

“I don't talk like lovely Marisa, Stel,” Oz hissed, looking maliciously at his human half.

Stelmaria however couldn't understand him, “that is what you think!”

“Yeah, that's what I think, Marisa and I are both different," he explained in an angry voice. "We are two who hate each other for sheer pleasure.”

"You're such a little bastard!” replied Stelmaria chuckling, “I would love to push you to the ground.”

"I could do the same to you!” said Oz threateningly.

“Just try, I'll win anyway.”

We'll see, but another time!” Oz replied with a chuckle, looking at the waving Marisa. “I think our two friends have chatted enough.”

“Agreed!” 

Both followed the two until both humans parted again for the time being. Oz follows Marisa into the bathroom and Stelmaria follows Lord Asriel into the bedroom, where she curls up next to the sleeping Lyra.

During this time both longed for each other even though they had quarreled moments before easily. But the thing was that Oz could go to Stelmaria anytime, but he would show Asriel that he could part with Marisa, which he didn't want to risk. So, he sat cross-legged in his chair in the bathroom, bored.

His human half, Marisa, didn't even look at him. She feels his desire, she knows how much he wants it, but the pleasure was on her side. 

"Don't worry, my little monkey," Marisa scoffed without turning around. "You can still get what you want."

She fixes her make-up, brushes her hair, and puts on fresh clothes from her suitcase. However, she made, in the process, Oz suffer, because she had heard exactly what he had said about her. Therefore, Marisa takes a lot of time for her activities … to be exactly a good half an hour later. Then Marisa finally leaves the bathroom with Oz in tow. 

Her destination was her new study, more precisely the old one of her grandfather's. Once there, she immediately takes a seat at the desk while Oz, who takes a seat on the windowsill could now see Marisa’s brother Matthew, who was sitting alone in the garden, seeming to be cleaning something shiny. His daemon, Anna. noticed Oz, she looks up briefly at him, but quickly turns back to Matthew who, involved her in a conversation.

"Nobody wants to be with you right now,” Marisa spat maliciously. “Therefore rest, my little monkey, you need it.”

"Isa, do me a favor, take care of yourself!" Oz fired back, showing his sharp teeth.

But Marisa stayed calm, "are we excited again?" She asked, carefully putting on her reading glasses.

Oz laughed scornfully, "to be clear, Lady Delamare, the third, I have feelings too."

"I don't doubt that," Marisa replied and takes out her folder of her briefcase. 

Then she begins to work like a bee, planning her first brief return to Bolvangar. For some employees, however, this visit would not be a pleasant one. Oz feels this when Marisa goes through the lists of her employees and sorts out the employees who are no longer useful for her project. 

"What are you going to do with them?” Oz asked, bored.

“Who?” Marisa raised her head, confused. “What do you mean, darling?"

"Your employees, Isa!"

Marisa was enlightened, "Ahhhhh, my employees .... I don't know yet what I'll do with them."

She takes a sip from the bottle of alcohol, which she had found, before she takes a glass and poured the bitter liquid from the bottle into it. Then Lyras mother takes another sip, closes the bottle, and puts it back again into one of the many drawers. 

At the same time, Oz looks with great eyes into Marisa eyes, he asked, "how will Lyra react when she finds out that you will be gone for some time?"

"I'll prepare Lyra for it, she'll come to terms with it," Marisa replied calmly, adjusting her reading glasses. "Would you like to know anything else or may I continue to work, my darling?"

“No, my love, I don't have any more questions, I'll rest a little like you advised me." Oz replied, curling up.

But what he does not expect was that Marisa walks to him moments later and lifts him up. She gently carries him then to the couch and laid him down on a comfortable pillow, spreading a little blanket over his body before she gives him a kiss and a caress. Then she returns to her desk and continues to work.

* * *

Later in the evening

* * *

Lord Asriel, who had just bathed, walks back into his bedroom. Sighing and with his nerves at the end for today, he takes a seat in the armchair with Stelmaria at his feet. Both are watching Lyra, who was still lying in her parents' new bed, however, she didn't sleep very deeply. She turns a lot in her sleep and Pantalaimon tried in vain to stay cuddled up to her. 

"Stelmaria"

Lord Asriel nods, his daemon knows immediately what he means. She gets up and jumps on the bed, where she picks up Pantalaimon and carries him to the other side of the bed, where she puts Pan back in Lyra's safe hands.

"Papa ...." Lyra mutters half-asleep. She turns again and rolls around a little, which caused that she wakes up. “Papa,” she says softly and opens her eyes.

Her father himself seems a bit bored, "what is it Lyra?"

"M... ma.. may I s.... s... si.. sit on y... yo.. your l.... l.. lap?" Lyra asked in return.

Asriel looks at her with a puzzled look, he asked, "why?"

"I w... wa.. want to ... be w... wi.. with y.... y.. you," Lyra replied with a pout

Lyra's father softened, “come here, monkey!” Asriel waves to Lyra, who approaches him with a blanket around her small body. 

Asriel lifts her then and places the child on his lap, where the girl immediately nestled against him. Meanwhile, Pan jumps off Lyra’s shoulder and lays down next to Stelmaria, who pulls the daemon to her with her big paws. 

Asriel did the same, he puts his arms around Lyra and gently hugs his daughter with his head bowed, "I haven't told you how much I've missed you, I'm sorry.” He spoke, kissing his beloved daughter.

Lyra gave a small chuckle in satisfaction. "I mis.. missed y.... y... you t.... to... too, papa," she replied, closing her eyes as their heads touched just like their two noses who rub against each other.

“L.. like t.... t... tw.. two e..... e.... es... esk… eskimos."

Asriel repeated the little game which made Lyra to giggle even more. Soon he begins to tickle her, first on her stomach, then his hand slides under her axes. Lyra winced, laughing. She tried to defend herself and to push her father's hand away from her, but the fit of laughter was too strong. 

"Mama likes to do that with you too, doesn't she?" Asriel said with a giggle and intensified his tickle attack.

"Yessss!" Lyra said panting and Lord Asriel immediately stops to tickle Lyra. 

She could finally take a deep breath, while she was sweating from her laugh attack.

“Breathe deeply, monkey!”

Lord Asriel shifts Lyra into a comfortable sitting position, so that her head leans against his chest as he begins to gently caress the cheek of his daughter, "I should have stopped sooner.” He said angrily at himself and hands the famous bottle to Lyra, who was certainly not angry with him as she takes a sip. "Your mother says you like your bottle a lot,” said Asriel moments later.

“Y… yeah, I li… like her," Lyra answered her father, giving him the bottle for inspection. "Mama to... told me t.... th... that I al... always sc... scre.. screamed out lo... loud wh… when I did.. didn't get my b.... bo... bot.. bottle f.... fr... from her.”

“That's right," Lord Asriel replied, giggling, putting the bottle away. "I saw it once, it was deafening, I even had to cover my ears.”

“Y.... y... you're e.... e... exag.. exaggerating!” 

Her father smirked, he pointed outside, "go into the study … ask your lovely mommy.”

"I will! " Lyra jumps from her father's lap and walks out of the room, a few minutes passed before she was back. “M.... ma.. mama s... sa.. says you ... are ri.. right,” She said horrified, arms crossed.

Lord Asriel gave a delighted giggle, he rose, and picks up Lyra. “Monkey, papa is always right,” replied Asriel with a smirk. Then something occurred to him, “do you want to look at the stars?”

“Y.... yes, p.... pl... please!” Lyra replied with a hug.

"All right!" Asriel puts his daughter on the bed, then quickly he walks up the stairs and looks for a jacket in her nursery. "There we have something," Asriel finds something suitable and returns to Lyra.

Then he helps her to put on the jacket and wraps her in a blanket as well. Next, Asriel carried his daughter outside into the garden, both taking a seat on the wooden bench that was set up in front of the large wooden table.

"Unfortunately,” said Lord Asriel, a little sadly as he looks fascinated at the cloudless sky. "I don't have a telescope so you can see them better next time."

Lyra takes note of this very sadly, but she had an idea, "d... do y.... y... you h.... ha... have b.... b... bin.. binoc... binoculars?”

"I can have a look around," 

Lord Asriel gets up from the bench. He looks around desperately, wanting to grant Lyra's wish. Then appeared like a saint, butler Hugh.

"Sir, are you looking for something like that?" Hugh held out a box to Asriel. 

Asriel opens it and sees the binoculars he was looking for. "Perfect, thank you very much." He sends the butler away and walks back into the garden, taking a seat beside Lyra again.

“Your binoculars, monkey.”

As soon as Asriel shows her the binoculars Lyra greedily snatched it from her father's hands. She feels now the cold black rubber in her hands, which smells very strong and it was an unusual feeling in her hands too. Lyra had never had such special binoculars in her hand. 

Then carefully she takes the binoculars in both hands and held it up, wanting to look through the binoculars, but Lord Asriel immediately takes it from her again.

"Lyra, what do you say to me?" asked Lord Asriel with a raised eyebrow.

"T… th.. thank y… y.. you, father," Lyra replied politely.

"You're welcome," Asriel returned the binoculars to her. He says in a slightly angry voice, "I always want to hear that from now on. You have to learn how to behave properly.”

"Yes, papa" Lyra missed this sentence, preferring to look through her binoculars.

She was so fascinated by the stars and giggles like never before. Her father, however, looks at her with a frown, he was also curious, but not as much as Lyra, therefore he changes the subject.

“I have to go back to London in a week to pick up the rest of my things."

“Hm,” Lyra grunted.

“Would you like to come with me?" Asriel asked without even looking at Lyra.

Lyra herself looks at her father, "j.... ju... just t.... the two ... of ... us?!"

"Just the two of us," said Lord Asriel approvingly, he looks himself through the binoculars for a moment. “Your mother can get on your grandma's nerves."

Lyra giggled in her soft child's voice. In London she had loved to play pranks on her mother. For example, she mixed her mother's coffee with a lot of milk. Marisa hadn't been very pleased when was drinking her coffee on this very morning back in london and just like now when she saw Lyra and Asriel in the garden she was of course, not very pleased.

"Asriel!” She yells, storming into the garden and stopping a few meters from the bench with her hands on her hips.

“Marisa?” Asriel turns, his expression was pleased rather than fearful of the anger of his lover.

“Bring Lyra into the house immediately!” Marisa demanded, foaming with rage. “She's sick enough already!” 

"A little fresh air won't hurt!”

Asriel tried to further appease his lover. But her anger continued to rise, "darling, it is enough!" She said, gritting her teeth.

Lyra's father tries to sooth her once more, "come on honey, let her have fun, please.”

Marisa sighed, she bowed her head in annoyance as Oz shakes his body next to her, he could feel the cool night air.

"M… m.. mama, I b.... b.. beg y.... you." Lyra tapped the space next to her.

Marisa smirks agreeing, her heart softened, “I'm coming soon.” She announces, turning around then she disappears towards the kitchen, where she prepares three cups of delicious hot chocolatle with cinnamon, which she puts on a tray. Slowly, she walks then back into the garden to her loved ones. 

She places the tray on the table and one after the other, she hands a cup to Asriel and to Lyra. Then she herself picks up her cup, taking a seat and putting one arm around Lyras before she takes a sip.

"I've outdone myself, once again,” Marisa praises herself for the good taste of the warm drink, but Lyra could not yet assess that.

"B.... bl... blow o... once, p.... pl... ple.. please,” Lyra holds out the cup to her mother. "It's too h.... ho... hot f.... f... for me.”

Marisa slowly lowers her head, she looks in Lyra’s small brown eyes for a moment and she smiles livingly before she blows on the drink.

“Thanks!” Lyra pulls away her cup as she smiles like crazy. She takes a big swig, but then she coughed hard because the drink was still too hot.

"Lyra, I suspected that," Marisa puts her and Lyra's cup away. She tilted her daughter's torso forward and patted the back a few times. “Keep coughing, darling,” she said with a growl. 

Lyra coughs a few more times, she takes a deep breath and wipes her mouth cleans.

“T… th.. thank you, m… ma.. mama!”

"You're welcome! Now, please, do mama a favor and drink slowly, Lyra.” 

Marisa hands her daughter her cup before she picks up her cup from the table again. Then both sipped their cups together while Marisa keeps an eye on Lyra, who looks herself up at the sky.

“M.... ma.. mama, is R.... ro… roger in h.... he... heaven?" She asked sadly.

Marisa choked, she coughs briefly, "what?” She coughs again and says, “yeah, Roger is in heaven, darling. He can see you from up there."

"C.... c... can I s..... s... see h.... h... him too?"

"No, you can't," Marisa replied calmly. She caresses Lyra tenderly and gives her a kiss, "please don't worry about anything like that,” she adds with another kiss. “Drink your hot chocolatle, please."

Lyra nods and raises her cup to her mouth. Then she sips the hot liquid very loudly.

“Lyra Louisa Delamare! ....” Marisa looks at her daughter angrily, “don't strain my nerves!”

Lyra chuckles softly, “y.... y... you s.... sa... said I sh... sho.. should dr… drink s.... slo.. slowly!” 

The girl leans against her father, who put his hand protectively around her body. Both had put on that mischievous grin like on the boat trip to Bornholm.

“Marisa really, ... you said that,” Asriel confirmed soon. “I'm a witness.”

Marisa blushes, she was seething with anger, but suddenly a gentle hand was placed on her shoulder. It was Stella, she gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, “Isa, being a mother means that you sometimes have to endure some fun.” She said with a smirk.

Marisa howls in return like a dog. She looks at Lyra who had cuddled up with her father. Her ice-cold heart melted with love and tenderness.

“Yes, that should I do, mama,” she said softly.

“Nice that you understand me,” Stella replied happily. She looks to her granddaughter, who suspected what grandma Stella wanted.

“Woman, I ha... hav.. haven't f.... fin... finished d.... dri... drin.. drinking yet!”

But her grandmother snatches the cup away, calmly telling Lyra her solution, “you take the cup with you. You can drink the rest when grandpa reads you a bedtime story."

"I Agree," Lyra nods, Stella in return walks past her own daughter and holds out her arms which forced Lyra to move away from her father.

She crawls into the open arms and clings to her grandma, who briefly lets Lyra hop in her arms to shift her into a better holding position. When both were satisfied, Stella picks up Lyra's cup and said to her, "say good night.”

Lyra's parents are standing up, one after the other they kissed Lyra and wished her good night, then she disappeared with her grandma.

Marisa and Asriel waved briefly to Lyra before they turned around and take a seat on the bench. Both moved closer together and Asriel puts his arms around his lover.

"I have good news," he said after a few minutes of silence

Marisa grunted briefly in annoyance, she replied, "what good things can you say?”

Lord Asriel laughed out loud. He pulls Marisa closer and kissed her on the mouth. She returned his kiss, moaning softly, "Tell me please."

Asriel himself remains silent for the time being and takes Marisa's hand. He pulls her up from the bench and hand in hand both walk to their new apartment and retired to the bedroom.

They closed the door with a giggle, Asriel then pushes Marisa against the wall, slowly opening the zipper of her blue dress.

"Asriel, please, tell me what you have on her mind!" Marisa demands, turning around, slightly aroused.

"Marisa, I found my brother, he is alive,” Asriel said and kissed the stunned Marisa before he carries her to the bed.

* * *

The next morning

* * *

Marcel Delamare woke up, it was the day of his departure and he was lying in his bed still a bit dazed from yesterday, while his owl had taken her place on the pillow on his bedside table.

“God, I have a hangover!” Marcel said with a sigh. 

He sits up in his bed, looking around. His clothes were strewn on the floor and he was almost completely naked.

"Now it's getting criminal," Commented his owl, she stretched her wings, yawning loudly.

Marcel did the same, he stretches out his arms and yawned, but suddenly a big dog came through the door.

"Beethoven, you are back!" he said in astonishment and beckoned one of his best friends over. "Come here, little bastard."

Beethoven jumped on the bed, pleased. He tries to lick Marcel's face, but he keeps him away.

"I missed you too," says Marcel with a chuckle, sliding his hands through the dogs long black fur and the dog in return howled softly satisfied.

But suddenly with a bark Beethoven draws Marcel's attention to something special beside him.

"What's wrong? 

Marcel turns around, a blond-haired woman was lying in his bed. 

"Sophia ... what the fuck?!”


	15. Humaneness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, spelling mistake's corrected, adjustments

* * *

The Trout Inn, Oxford

* * *

The queen of the gods, Hera, was comfortably seated at the Trout Inn in Oxford, one fine evening. She had already ordered dinner and was currently enjoying a glass of the best wine the Polstead family's inn had to offer.

Today Hera had an appointment with Athena, the goddess of wisdom, strategy, defensive warfare, crafts, skill, and of course Marisa Coulter's best new dream friend too. She entered the Inn and Immediately the most intense smell of alcohol poked into her divine nose which she had not smelled for centuries.

"Oh God … I am sure this is the crowning glory since we were in Paris!” She noted, disgusted,

"You're right," said her daemon, coughing. “Those parties were excessive, and the smell was the same, but at least people are decent today.”

“Humanity has never changed, "Athena scoffed at the creation of the supreme god. “They are still useless as they were before.”

“That they worship you doesn't make them useful?” Asked her daemon, who’s statements always were very wise.

But the mankind had disappointed the goddess of wisdom once too much, “the people are useful for worshiping me, you are right,” she said, “But they have no other qualities that make them useful in any other way!”

“Athena,” the owl signs, “I beg you, be sensible

“Shut up, we're here to meet Hera and not to argue about this rabble named mankind!”

“I understand,” the owl said, “you will soon see what you get for it”

“Pride comes before a fall!”

“I will remember this, now to our task!”

Athena hums and begins to look around. The search, however, turned out to be a little more difficult, because the Trout Inn was filled to the brim with guests, so the goddess of wisdom had to find the mother goddess, Hera, the old-fashioned way. Therefore, Athena continues to look around until she found a boy with reddish hair, who was currently busy with serving the guests.

"Hey, boy," called Athena as she approaches him.

The boy turns around, he smiles at the goddess and asked, "Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for a lady,” Athena explained with a tongue snap. “She has long black hair, is tall, possess a pretty face with a snub nose and she comes here often. My question is, do you know her? Is she currently somewhere around?"

"Yes, you must be Annabeth Morgan,” the boy replied with a smirk. “She's been waiting for you, so if you would follow me."

The boy runs quickly to the bar for and puts down his tray before he leds the completely surprised Athena to a quieter part of the Inn, where only a few guests are always present at the same time.

"Madam,” The boy pulls back a chair that belonged to the table of Hera.

“Thanks, junior," Athena takes a seat on this chair and the boy hands her the menu, but Athena returns it. "I will not stay long.”

"Miss Morgan, at least something to drink for you?" the boy asked politely. 

He shows the young lady various drinks on the menu, but that only made the goddess more annoyed respectively all the more angrier. 

"I said, No!” She yelled at him.

The boy nods wordless and walks over to Hera, who he asked, "Lady Morgan, anything else for you?"

"Yes, darling, for my daughter an orange juice, please. She is not drinking enough, thank you Malcolm."

The boy named Malcolm nods and disappeared towards the bar. Athena looks briefly at him before she shifts her attention back to the queen of the gods. 

"Your daughter?" She asked exasperated.

“Just part of my cover.”

"I hope so, mother!" Athena replied sarcastically. Why am I here?" 

"You don't know?” Hera replied with a raised eyebrow, she leans back and crosses her legs. “I thought the messenger of the gods and your half-brother Hermes told you that."

"I'm afraid no, you know him,” Athena smirked. “He’s just as lazy as a human person.”

“But, he does his work most of the time," Hera replied with a chuckle.

She takes a sip from her glass of wine as she looks to the door that opened with a loud creaking sound. Malcolm steps back in the room. In his hand he held a plate of fragrant food and in the other the glass of orange juice. He carried both items effortlessly to the two ladies and then served the order.

"Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” Malcolm replied, bowing once before he disappears again without another word.

"A nice boy,” Hera said proudly about Malcolm, “you really should get to know him better.“

"No, definitely not,” replied Athena, shaking her head. “But I ask you again, great mother, what am I doing here?"

Hera laughs, taking her cutlery in her hands, and beginning to eat. With her mouth full, she said, “please, honey, use your clever brain!"

"Marisa?"

"Exactly," Hera swallowed, "I want you my dear to give the young lady a little more than just advice.”

"Should I sneak into the Delamare household?” Asked Athena incredulously.

The mother goddess answered cheekily, "If that's what you want to call it ..... Yes, of course.”

"Fine, I'll do it,” replied Athena lightly, however, she was not aware of the difficulty of the task.

“Athena,” Hera sighs, “if you do that you have to learn to behave like a human!”

"What do you say?" Athena asked, laughing scornfully.

Hera played along and laughs a few seconds with the goddess of wisdom, but her look and thus her mood quickly became serious. 

"You understood me, don't ask so stupidly!"

"I am a goddess,” Athena hissed, her eyes are firing as her other personality, her Roman form Minerva came into play, “I'm not going to act like those disgusting creatures.”

"Don't go too far, you'll do what I want," Hera spat, acting like her Roman form Juno.

But Athena nor her roman personality Minerva did not accept the will of the mother goddess. “You can forget that,” she clarifies with a shake of the head. “I will not put myself on a par with these creatures!”

“Do you defy your queen?” Hera asked aroused, throwing her cutlery on the table.

"Yes, of course, I've never done what you wanted!” She raged and insulted her aunt, "you insidious and conceited old woman."

“Enough!” 

Hera snaps her fingers. Time stood still, everything froze. Both disappeared from the inn and were teleported to Mount Olympus. Arrived there Hera's shape changed. She was now wearing her snow-white long dress, holding her lotus stick in her hand. Her eyes glowed golden, while her tiara sparkled in the light of the many torchlights.

"You will obey your queen!” She demands in a loud, echoing voice.

“You may be the queen, but I am equal to my father, aunty.” Athena spat viciously. 

Her eyes were blazing with fire, her golden armor sparkles, and her daemon was ready for anything, but Hera wanted to appease Athena in spite of the evil words.

“Kneel down in front of me child,” she said pleading. “So far you haven't done anything that I couldn't forgive you.”

"Save your words," Athena shouted at her. "I'll never kneel before you!”

“Then you are lost!”

A lightning bolt struck next to Athena, throwing her backwards on the floor and golden spear she wields was reduced to ashes.

Then the queen of the gods strolls towards the struck and defenseless Athena as her voice booms through Olympus: 

“You are stubborn and so immense selfish that it truly is a shame!” The Queen of the gods said disgusted. “You are a shame for your sisters, for your brothers and for your own father. My god Athena you are a disgrace yourself!”

“No, please stop,” Athena shakes her head in disbelief. “I am not like this.”

"You are like that," Hera shouts angrily at her. "You despise humanity, because you think that you are something better.”

“I'm so sorry, great mother,” replied Athena weeping as tears in her eyes formed. She apologizes herself and begs for mercy, but it was too late!

“You leave me no choice, but to punish you,” said Hera sadly. She averted her eyes and says in a whisper: " I ban you to earth!”

Athena flickered, her strength waned and the last thing she saw was a dazzling golden light, then she was back in the Trout Inn, however, her divinity was gone, and she was now a perfectly normal woman named ….

“Annabeth Morgan, wake up, darling!”

"Yes, mother," Annabeth takes a sip of orange juice from her glass. “What’s on your mind if I may ask?”

“I just want to remind you that you have an interview in Oxford tomorrow," says Lady Morgan enlighteningly, "The Delamares.”

“I know, mother. I still have to get my files together,” replied Annabeth, getting nervous.

Lady Morgan reaches for her daughters hand and squeezed it gently. “Take it easy, you will get the job as a private teacher, because I'll take care of that.” She soothes and continues, "Stella Delamare is an old friend of mine. Don't worry darling.”

“Thank you mama, if you would excuse me now, I have to go.”

Annabeth gets up from her chair and smooths her red dress once more before she kisses her mother goodbye. Her daemon, an owl, flies to the door and she herself follows him a few moments later.

"Annabeth.”

"Yes, mother," Lady Morgan's daughter turns around once more.

"Do not disappoint me,” she demands with a wink. “I want to be proud of you."

"I will, mama. I love you,” replied Annabeth.

She leaves the crowded Inn and steps back onto the paved street, which was only lit by the flickering light of the streetlamps, but it was uncomfortable cold outside, and she was starting to shiver, so quickly she puts on her long dark blue coat. 

Suddenly, as she wants to leave the harbor, she hears a car horn. A slim woman with a distinctive face appeared. Her hair, which had a dark reddish and almost brown color, was fluttering in the wind.

"Annabeth!" She calls, waving with her left hand.

"Heather?"

"Honey, Heather is my middle name," the woman said with a giggle. She approaches Annabeth and hugs her affectionately, "It's lovely to see you, Annabeth."

"It really is …. Margaret. It's been months since we last saw each other.”

"I remember you were in the hospital ... anyway, my mother sent me, Stella Delamare. I'm supposed to pick you up.”

"How nice of her, Margaret!”

"I think so too," Annabeth’s friend noted, putting an arm around her childhood friend. "Come on, Annie, we have a lot to talk about.” She adds and leds her best friend to the already waiting car.

But Annabeth had forgotten something, “I have to go home again to get my things for the interview."

"What did your mother tell you again?" Margaret spoke with a giggle, she enlightened her friend. “You're already hired.”

"Am I that?" Annabeth asked uncertainly.

"Of course, my brother Matthew called you yesterday!” Margaret replied with a smirk.

“Matthew … Ahhhhh!” Suddenly Annabeth holds her head against her forehead, she feels a terrible headache, "I'm sorry,” she says with a gasp, “I'm just blown away right now and my head …. my head hurts."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," Margaret gave her a friendly kiss. "We're going to my home, where I will take a look at your head.”

"All right!” Annabeth replied, moaning in pain. “Tell the driver to go fast." 

"Don't worry about it," spoke Margaret, opening the door. "Our butler Hugh is behind the wheel." 

Both women got in the car, then the car drove off to the Delamares estate.

* * *

* * *

The queen of the gods, Hera, watches the spectacle on earth somewhat melancholy. She was alone in the great palace of the Olympians. She just wanted to be left alone and do what she did best, to protect the children's mothers. Hera liked to do that, as did her Nordic colleague Frigg, Queen of Asgard. Both shared their duties and were good friends. 

When Hera heard a gust of wind she thought it was Frigg, but that quickly turned out to be wrong. A man steps out of the shadows. His blond hair as well his navy-blue suit flashed in the torchlight as he approaches the queen of the greek gods.

"As I can see you've outdone yourself, once more, Queen Hera.” 

“You could say that, Michael,” replied Hera with a giggle, and hugs the famous archangel. 

It was very rare for an angel to visit another goddess, but when an angel did this, it was not without reason. 

“My father wants a status update,” said Michael, leaning against the railing of the balcony.

Hera looks at him with a grin, she replied, "tell the old man everything is going according to plan, Michael."

"I will, but we, the heavenly host, heard with concern that you banished, Athena, the goddess of wisdom."

“That's right,” replied Hera, trying to explain herself. "I banished the lovely Athena for a reason."

“Can you tell me the reason?” asked the Archangel.

“Athena is more useful to me as a human person," said the goddess thoughtfully. "I would never have banished her so easily, but when she argued with me I saw a possibility how she could help Marisa better.”

“Tell me why are the Delamares so important?"

“Come closer," Hera leans her head forward. She whispers the truth in the archangel's ear.

"Hmm, I see, as I suspected."

"It's actually so obvious, now you owe me something," Hera replied with a giggle, putting a hand on the archangel's shoulder. "You have to play a part in my plan.”

"Which role has the great queen intended for me," joked the archangel.

Hera giggled contemptuously, she knows that the angel wouldn't like it very much what she was now telling him.”

“Michael, my darling, greatest of all archangels, I need you …. as Annabeth's father.”

“Me as a father?” The voice of the archangel booms through the halls, "you are joking. I have to fulfill obligations!"

“You understood me," replied Athena for the second time that day. "I have a deal with your father.”

Michael gets angry, he shows his wings and pushes the goddess forward, replying at the same time, “You insidious bitch. I'm going...”

Thunder kept through the halls and a voice rang in Michael's head.

"Michael, I have to remind you, that she is entitled to your help. You will do what she asks."

"Yes, father," The archangel had to admit defeat. He sighs in annoyance and turns his attention back to the goddess. “I'll do what you ask, queen Hera," Michael says somewhat conciliatory.

That puts a smile on the queen's face, “thank you, my dear.”

The angel nods, his white wings appeared again and with a gust of wind he was gone.


	16. Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020: adjustments

Marcel Delamare was sitting surprised in his bed, with the family dog Beethoven on one side and the naked and still sleeping Sophia on the other.

"Sophia," Marcel shakes her body gently, "wake up for heaven's sake." He said panicked as his eyes kept to turn to the door. 

If Marisa sees this delicate situation, he and probably Sophia would be in great danger. After all, Sophia was still the nanny and it would look very strange to the young mother, but Sophia herself didn't notice much of it.

"Mama, only five more minutes, please.” She mutters half asleep.

She turns on the bed Marcel, who tried with all his might to wake her up. But she just didn't want to wake up, so Marcel was forced to bring out the big guns.

"Sophia … Honey Pie, you're lying in my bed …. Absolutely freaking naked!"

"What?!" 

Sophia opens her eyes and gets up from the bed with one flowing movement. She snatches the blanket from the bed and wraps it around her body, then she looks around in the room to orientate herself … She was indeed standing in Marcel’s room, however, she had no memory of what had happened or why she was standing here on this cool morning, therefore she had to assume the worst.

"Marcel, did we have sex?" She asked, horrified.

“Would you like to have sex with me, my love?” Marcel asked the counter question with a smirk.

"Of course not," Sophia replied in disgust. "The mere thought of it doesn't turn me on …. Ahhhhh ..." Suddenly a sharp pain takes over, she puts her hand on her forehead. "Oh God, I have a headache." 

She staggered and falls directly on the bed into Marcel's open arms. She feels now his strong embrace, smells his perfume, which was similar to his father's and she looks as time seems to stand still into his eyes, which were so similar to his mother’s eyes, but Beethoven appears out of nowhere. He sniffles curiously at the pretty woman for a moment before he licks her reddish cheek with his moist, sandy tongue.

"Disgusting!" Sophia said and hid her face in the blanket. 

"Sophia, that's usually a sign that he likes you," Marcel noted with a chuckle. He sends the dog away, then he shifts his attention back to Sophia. "I don't know myself what happened last night,” he told her, “I must have been drunk just as you are.”

Silence …. Silence broke out. Both just sat on the bed … Marcel still had his hands around Sophia’s body without that Sophia tries to complain about it. She was just lying in his arms with her head placed on his chest, thickly wrapped in the blanket too. 

"Marcel …” Sophia broke the silence, “If everything had gone normally last night, we would not have been in this delicate situation now.”

"I think so too," Marcel agreed with a nod. He lets out a compassionate sigh as he pulls Sophia onto his lap. "I saw Marisa and Asriel sitting on a bench yesterday and you, my love, were definitely with me!"

"All right, I remember it now. We’re both met in the garden …."

"Matthew brought us wine..."

“Then he disappeared with a giggle,” Sophia hit the blanket with her hand. "Fuck asshole … I should have known that he was up to no good!” 

She lets out an angry sigh, her daemon grumbles, and crawls onto her lap, and curls up. In return, Sophia reaches out her delicate fingers and begins to caress the daemon, who enjoyed the relaxing treatment. Sophia did that so well that she relaxes too and starts to giggle as she slides her hand over the warm belly of her demon. Marcel, who is watching her curiously, puts his hand on hers and begins to guide it.

"Don't worry, at some point we'll punish him with a prank." 

Marcel spoke as his embrace tightened once more. Sophia makes no move to want to break free. She was fixated on her daemon and on Marcel's hand which she briefly guides herself until Marcel pulls his hand away. He gets up from the bed and first gathered up his clothes, then Sophia’s, which he throws to her.

“Marcel, please, you will forget our night together.” Sophia said with a raised eyebrow.

She completely ignores the temptations she had allowed in the last few minutes. She just gets dressed, quickly combs her hair with the comb that was in front of the mirror and walks to the door, but suddenly she stops.

She breathes gently, her daemon a little panda turns around and slowly, he approaches the owl, who was flying down to him. Both came closer, the gentle panda sat on the ground and stretches out his paw, which he led to the owl's feathers. The movements, which he carried out were tender, revealing to Marcel, who was standing to the right of the two of them, that Sophia could not resist her feelings.

Marcel could only wonder about it himself, he bowed his head briefly and closed his eyes. He feels what his daemon feels at the moment … love and affection for a person, who was important to him. 

Without a word he stretches out his hand and encompasses Sophia's wrist. He pulls her to him without resistance as if in a trance. His hand are wrapping around her waist, with his other he brushes a strand of hair from her face.

"You are the woman of my dreams," Marcel said in a whisper as his mouth comes slowly closer and closer. Sophia unconsciously did the same, but unfortunately they didn't make it to the kiss, because Lyra appeared in the doorway out of nowhere.

"Breakfast!" She called softly and runs into the room.

Marcel let go of Sophia immediately and turns to his niece with a raised eyebrow. "Lyra ... could you please knock on the door first.”

"I'm sorry, Uncle." Lyra apologized, lowering her head, sadly.

“It’s Okay,” Marcel taps her head gently with the palm of his hand a few times. "Please be careful next time." He replied with a chuckle. "Please go into the large living room, grandma is already waiting for you!" With a nod in the direction of the door, he sends the girl away and turns back to Sophia. "You should follow Lyra," he suggested, hands on his hips. "I'm going to the airport in an hour."

"Yes, I will... I mean, I will follow Lyra." Sophia assured him again. "I'll see you later."

"Do that, Sophia." Marcel coughs for a moment, then he walks back to his suitcase, which he continued to fill with his clothes. 

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get Sophia out of his head. 

Sophia was plagued by the same thoughts when she reaches the large living room and sat down next to Annabeth Morgan to have breakfast.

* * *

* * *

After breakfast, the house emptied for the first time in days.

Lyra's parents and grandparents drove to London and her two uncles drove to Oxford airport with her aunt. All that was left for Lyra were Sophia and Annabeth, who stayed with her in the large living room, and gossiped about their personal experiences, while Lyra stretches out on the couch and lets Sophia’s Daemon massage her to sleep.

"It's nice not to be a stranger anymore," said Sophia about her current status.

"It's really nice,” Annabeth chuckles, “but I've known the family since I was a child." She explains with a raised eyebrow and Sophia could hardly believe it. 

"Please tell me more, I'm curious,” She said and gives a short laugh like crazy.

But quickly she holds her left hand in front of her mouth. Lyra turns around briefly, she looks confused just like Pantalaimon then she turns around again. Annabeth could only giggle at it. She had assessed Sophia differently. Her face showed joy, amusement, and a lot of emotion. Very different from the rest of the Delamare family. 

Nonetheless, Annabeth begins to tell her story.

"Miss Hayward” Annabeth begins to speak, “first you must know that Margaret and I are old friends. We went to the same school, always fell in love with the same boys and spent a lot of time together, but , most of the time we were just bored in Margaret's room.”

"Not exactly the fine English way," remarked, Sophia with a sigh.

"Of course, Meg and I were different," Annabeth continued. "We were rebels. Loud music and gossip was our thing. We made chaos in the house whenever we could when we were kids. I think I remember how we were chased through the house by a woman. I think it was the butler's wife who is now Stella's assistant.”

"If I may ask, what has Marisa been doing all day?" Sophia asked in a whisper, always glancing at Lyra.

“She hung out with her mother.” 

"What did the other two brothers do?" Sophia asked, pouring two glasses of wine.

"Matthew spent a lot of time with his father ….. Thanks!” 

Annabeth reaches for her glass and sipped at it. She tasted the gently sweet aroma of the grape and briefly closes her eyes. She was in heaven for a brief moment and she liked it so much that she even takes another sip that made her talkativeness even stronger.

“Where was I? … Matthew …. Matthew was personally prepared by his daddy for his job in the company." Annabeth remembered with a sigh. "Marcel however stayed with his grandfather."

"What happened to Margaret?" Sophia asked with a question mark over her head. "Has she changed?"

“And how, suddenly she was so different.” Annabeth replied with a sad sigh. 

Sophia notices that these memories were not exactly easy and were more sad in nature that had triggered a pain. 

“Describe it to me, it helps to process the pain.” Sophia played off her therapeutic experience. She takes Annabeth's hand and squeezed it lightly. With a nod she said silently, “everything is okay, keep talking girl."

And Annabeth does it, she continues, “Stella started to teach Margaret herself when Margaret was ten years old. At that point, our relationship cooled off. We were less together, I was pretty lonely, and I had the feeling that my only friend slipped out of my hand.”

“Did Margaret note that?" Asked Sophia, taking a sip.

“At first glance not, but then when I started to ruin myself in my madness, she helped me.” She said, shedding a tear. “She was so empathetic and had given me everything I wanted or what I would need. Later, she went to St. Sophia’s College and I went to Trinity College.”

"Sounds like a second-rate newspaper story," remarked Sophia, looking at Annabeth, who didn't seem very surprised by her reaction.

"Sophia, you can't believe the newspapers, but you can believe me." Annabeth said gloomily, then sips at her glass of wine with pleasure before her gaze turns to Lyra. "How long will she be sick?" Annabeth asked. 

"I am not a doctor," Sophia clarifies. She gets up from her chair and strolls over to Lyra, making sure that the girl was okay. "We definitely have to wait a little longer before we can teach her.” 

"She's fine given the circumstances," Annabeth noted lightly. "One or two hours of lessons a day are possible."

Sophia reacted irritated, "are you familiar with Lyra's health?” She asked with a hiss. “Do you even know what problems this girl was going through?”

"Unfortunately, no," Annabeth replied, seeming insecure and wanting to play down the situation.

But Sophia remained serious, "Lyra's immune system is still weakened.” She said sweetly maliciously and steps up to Annabeth. She puts her hands on the two armrests and looks the young woman in the eye. “She takes ever fucking day heavy medication because her body has been so badly affected in the last weeks. When Lyra is able to expose herself to greater academic exertion, you may begin!”

"All right!" Annabeth nods in fear, calming her nerves with some wine. “I just don't want to screw this up, you know.”

"Miss Morgan ... Annabeth," Sophia's mood changes, she shows her soft side again. "Take a deep breath, you are not in private school."

"I know," she said, "I just don't want to disappoint my mother, let alone my father, who is one of our boss's best friends."

"You just have to stay calm, dear" Sophia shakes her head with a smile. She puts her arms on Annabeth's shoulders and adds to her statement, "You and I will raise a wonderful and perfectly normal high society girl."

"You're right about that," Annabeth agreed, nodding slightly. 

Even so, she was still unsure. She moves quickly in her chair, she was sweating with excitement, which only eased, when Sophia puts a hand on her cheek.

"Annabeth, my dear, you must believe. We must act as a team, form a unit. That's the only way we can do this and then your fucking parents can kiss your lovely ass."

"Yes, I would like that," replied Annabeth happier with a smile.

Sophia beams in turn lovingly at the scared woman and gently caresses her cold reddish cheek. "Find your trust, love. Everything will be fine," she said, kissing Annabeth on the forehead. 

A red, fragrant lip print remained when Sophia lifts her lips. The former Athena looks at the very attractive nanny in confusion.

"Wasn't that a little exaggerated?" She asked with a frown, knowing that she had never been kissed by a woman before. 

"Certainly not," replied Sophia with a soft laugh. "Annabeth, you were depressed. I knew, I had to comfort you."

“All right!”

Annabeth gets up from her chair and leaves the room, completely confused with her thoughts and feelings. She had told a story that was the same as her strange and affectionate relationship with Sophia. 

Sophia herself could only look at her friend with a frown when she disappeared.

"I already love this woman." Sophia said giggling to her daemon and takes a seat on the couch next to Lyra. 

She protects the girl and looks after her until the two oldest Delamare siblings were back.

"Mrs. Hayward, we will take over now."

"As you wish," Sophia disappears from the living room.

In turn Matthew and Margaret take her place. Marisa's older brother takes a seat in one of the many armchairs while his sister sat down next to Lyra on the couch.

Now, the first thing Margaret did was to check Lyra's temperature. "The fever is almost gone," she stated, surprisingly. 

She touches Lyra's forehead again, but her assumption was confirmed. Her twin brother, who was surprised himself, could only look at his sister with wide eyes. 

“Mother will be pleased,” he said with pure joy. “Is there anything else you can say."

"Unfortunately, my sweet hare … no, I guess that's the only positive surprise," she replied knowingly. 

Her work experience was vast, but not much was possible without an examination of Lyra's body. Therefore, she could only maintain ….

"Lyra’s recovery may have taken another big step forward." 

"I think so too Meg,” Matthew agreed. “Lyra really deserved it after what she went through.”

“I think our sister will be very relieved to hear that.” Margaret sighs.

She crosses her legs, and gently reaches under Lyra's arms. She pulls now the girl, who moaned in her sleep, onto her lap and wraps a blanket around the child to keep it warm. When Margaret now looks down at Lyra she sees her mother and sister together. 

The beauty of both combined into a perfect end product.

"Our little baby," Margaret sighs, bringing her hand to Lyra's cheek, caressing it gently. "You are in a hurricane and you don't even know it yet." 

She lowers her head and gives Lyra a kiss. The girl beams, she moaned satisfied, and growls softly like her grandfather John before she turns in her sleep. She was looking for something soft for her head in the form of Margaret's breast, where she leans her head against it. Margaret in turn puts an arm around her body to support the upper body from Lyra. 

The girl was now cuddled up like a small baby in her aunt's arms.

"Did Isa speak to you, too?" Margaret asked curiously, she begins to rock the girl.

"What do you mean?" Matthew asked.

"She asked if we could help her with something special." Margaret explained with a frown. 

She was surprised by her brother's question, the expression on her face reflected that very clearly, but quickly he remembers it.

“That's what you meant ... I said I would help,” Matthew gets up and prepares a drink for himself and his sister. “Unfortunately, she hasn't told me what it was about yet.”

“She didn't tell me what it was about either, she must have done the same with Marcel.”

"You're right," he said and handed his sister her glass before he takes a seat beside her. "That little scumbag ..."

"Matthew.... Your choice of words!” His sister pointed to the still sleeping Lyra.

"Sis... Marcel is one." 

"Just like you bro," Margaret replied with a raised eyebrow. “Please tell me more about Marcel.”

"Our little darling knows more than he is willing to admit. He was present at that ominous meeting with grandpa." 

Matthew said with a tongue snap. He knows that his brother had a lot to hide. Marcel talked a lot about the business, but this time he had kept his mouth shut and that was strange, which was also not hidden from his big sister.

“Mother and father must have instructed him in their plan, she suspected, thoughtfully. “Both trust him, my hare.”

"Mother and father don't trust anyone, our beloved little Marcel was just a decoration." Matthew replied gloomily, taking a sip. "We're all just puppets in their grand scheme."

"We always were!" Margaret said aloud, bitterly. She spoke from experience, "Lyra is really just a price in a war."

"I want to prevent that," her brother replied resolutely. "I ... we have to protect Lyra at all costs."

"You and me … both together," Margaret pointed first at herself and then at her brother, laughing in disbelief. "My tall, very handsome hare, our parents are going to kill us for this, especially mommy, she'll slash us open like a wild animal.”

"Not if we do it right," Matthew emptied his glass. "Everyone in this house plays games, including you, my sharp sister bunny. I want my niece to grow up safe from this chaos … you … you know that, and you also know that Mother has the same goal as Isa."

"So, my hare, you don't want to betray her at all?" She asked her brother, apparently enlightened.

"Maybe just a little bit," Matthew showed a tiny distance with his thumb and index finger. "It has to be, Meg ... A war is coming."

"It has already begun!"

* * *

* * *

"Why is your brother showing up right now?" Marisa asked her lover Lord Asriel. 

Both were sitting in Asriel's study on the first floor of the house, it was shortly after 2 p.m. and Marisa should already be with her daughter.

"Marisa you must understand ...," Asriel stops, he takes a sip from his glass of Tokay.

“I have nothing to understand, darling. Just tell me what’s on your mind!” Demanded Marisa with a raised eyebrow and crosses her legs, feeling that something was wrong. "Whatever problem your brother has, we can solve it … together ... as a family."

"It's not so easy .... Harry... My brother... he's an addict." Asriel admitted, he lowers his face and looks thoughtfully at his glass. 

But Marisa herself could hardly believe it. "Addicted to what? She asked aroused, leaning forward with her upper body. "If he's a danger to my daughter ...”

"Harry would never hurt anyone," Asriel told her, refilling his glass. "His wife Abigail may have left him, then his relationship with me and the Zeppelin crash, which he barely survived. All of this had put him in a state that he couldn't control.”

"What does it all mean now?" Marisa blushes, she finally wants an answer.

And Asriel gave it to her immediately, "He's got to move in here so I can help him to get rid of his alcoholism.”

Marisa was speechless, her eyes were big, and her mouth was open. She had never expected that, she only has a limited knowledge of Asriel’s family, which means that she knows what Asriel's parents looked like and that was the only thing, but that Count Belacqua is an alcoholic and still alive, that was a blow in the face for Marisa.

Her clever brain was already imagining fantasies, she could imagine life with her soon-to-be brother-in-law. The very thought of it made her pale. Her following reaction was of a slightly different kind.

"The great Asriel wants to help his brother!" Marisa claps her hands, her expression was diabolical. “So, miracles still happen!”

"Marisa ... he's my family! He's the only one left for me." Asriel yells at her and hit the table with his fist. 

The shock wave that was created knocks his glass over and Stelmaria hisses. She builds herself up in front of the golden monkey, who quickly returned to Marisa and crawls up to her shoulder. He looks at Stelmaria, while Marisa herself was boiling with anger.

"Your family is Lyra!” She screamed back and rose from the chair in a rage. "For years she was your only connection to this world, I don't give a shit about your brother.”

“How dare you..."

"How dare you..." Marisa moves her hand, Oz leaps forward. “You want to bring a miserable drunkard in my house. He is a danger and to my daughter’s protection too I will never let it happen!”

"Are insulting my brother?”

“Of course, Darling. That bastard was never there for you. Suddenly he shows up and asks you for help, how pathetic.”

“You filthy bitch, how far do you want to go?” Asriel asked with a frown. He points with a finger at Marisa while Stelmaria growls maliciously. “I warn you, my dear fiancé. ….”

"Mama?" 

Lyra appeared in the doorway, her daemon pressed protectively against her chest. She wasn't exactly on the right level, but she noticed something was wrong.

"Lyra honey, I have completely forgotten you …. I'm so sorry," said Marisa in a sweet voice. "Please go to the living room, mama will be right there."

Lyra hesitated as her eyes widened. She looks first at her mother, who looks completely calm, and then at her father, who was sitting in his chair, but he looks sullen. 

"I … Is e….. ev …. every … everything o … ok?" She asked softly. "D …. d.. did y…. y… you f…. fi… fig.. fight a…. ab… abo.. about me?"

"No, of course not, monkey," Asriel shakes his head. His expression softened. "Mommy she ... she played a prank on me."

"A prank?" 

Lyra asked and walks into to the room to her mother’s side as Pan jumps out of her arms and sits down next to her legs, trying to interpret the reactions of the other daemons, but Stelmaria and Oz stayed calm as Marisa goes on her knees.

"I played a prank. I replaced the sugar with salt," said Marisa, giggling, gently sliding with her fingers through her daughter’s hair which smelled of roses. Marisa's eyes were still fixed on her lover. "Your father wanted to have his coffee and I saw my chance.”

"Very, very sneaky this woman," he said with a sigh. 

He leans back in his chair as Stelmaria approached Oz, rubbing their heads together like never had happened. 

"Darling, you should go with your mother now,” Asriel suggested. “Have a little fun with her.”

"She can use any second of it ... come on, Lyra." M

Marisa reaches for her daughter’s hand and leds the girl out of the room. They walk down the hall but were not alone.

Someone was watching them.


	17. Love In A Cold Climate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dezember 2020, adjustments, slightly extended version, changed Lady Wilson's hair

* * *

Geneva - Switzerland

* * *

Marcel Delamare was sitting in the living room of his grandparents' house. He was currently working on a letter to one of his most trusted colleagues in order to finalize some important decisions for his very own project “La Maison Juste” when suddenly his beloved grandmother walks into the room.

"You work so early, darling?" She asked and places the breakfast on the table.

"Otherwise, I wouldn't be sitting here,” Marcel said with a hiss, not looking up from his letter. “So, Lady Wilson, what do you want from me? If it's nothing important ... let me work!"

"You speak to me in a reasonable tone, young man!" She replied, slapping her grandson's head lightly with the back of her hand.

Marcel screamed out in pain, “Ouch …” He turns around and looks angrily into her eyes, "grandma ... I'm not a little kid."

"Sometimes you act like one!" She spat with a tongue snap.

She takes a chair next to her grandson at the table and puts the plate with the sandwiches in front of him.

"Start eating."

"Yes, Grandmother!”

Marcel grabs one of the sandwiches and takes a bite. He chews very slowly, his thoughts are spinning around in his head. It was truly very strange that his grandma hadn't shown up very much in the past few days. Most of the time he had spoken to his grandfather or had been out of the house to work. But when she was present Marcel knows that there was nothing good in the air. 

Lady Grace Wilson was almost always in a bad mood, but as intelligent as her husband whom she married when Stella Delamare was five and she tender twenty years old. Her medium-length white hair, which was similar to her stepdaughter, who once wore a bob hairstyle, sparkled just as maliciously in these moments as her greyish eyes. That made a lot of people shudder, but her grandson was not impressed.

"Do you want to boss me around?" He asked unemotionally.

"Not at the moment," she said with a chuckle, brushing some hair from her grandson's face as her mood changes instantly. “How is your work doing, darling?" She asked with a loving smile.

"I can't complain," Marcel swallowed his bite and continues, "in the last few days here in Geneva I was able to build the basic structure for La Maison Juste, plus our resources are solid now and the staff is already hired. We can start our work, but a few things are still missing."

"You will take care of these little things thoroughly and to my satisfaction, young man.” Lady Wilson told him in a raised voice. She points up the stairs with her finger, “your grandfather had to pull many strings to give you this chance. If you disappoint Him then may God have mercy on you, but I won't.”

"I'm aware of that, but why do you care?" Marcel asked curiously. 

He raised an eyebrow, his gaze, as always, a little mischievous and mocking at the same time. 

Lady Wilson herself could only laugh at it mockingly, "you represent your family.” She reprimanded her grandson in a poisonous voice, “You also represent me, your lovely grandmother.”

"Really? … The only question I have is how long will you be part of my family step-grandmother?" 

Lady Wilson sighs annoyed, "Marcel … keep it up, mock me like you used to. You can't hurt me with it anymore.”

“What?! Come on granny, punish me for being a naughty and spoiled kid!” Marcel incited his grandmother further, "insult me, mock me, beat me .... I see it in your eyes, the old monster is still in there …. the monster wants to see me suffer like in the good old days.”

"I won't do that anymore." Lady Morgan averted her gaze.

"Have you lost the pleasure?" Marcel asked as he ate his sandwich with the greatest pleasure. "Is there something wrong with you, granny?”

“I don't want to argue with you anymore.” 

"Why now?”

"Darling, as you get older, you get wiser. Your grandfather taught me that," replied Lady Wilson with a shrug, taking a sip of coffee. "After all, I will soon be sixty-two years old. I'm an old woman! Why should I still be the bitch when others can do that.”

“Because, you can do it best!” Marcel said, giggling, and patted her shoulder lightly. “No one is equal to you in this game, not even my mother.”

“Honey, stop this ..." She shakes with a slight amused smile but that disappears very quickly. “I … I actually want to tell you that I regret what I did.”

“…….” Marcel frowned.

“Marcel … I've treated you badly and I'm sorry.” She admitted, nervously adjusting her glasses. “I made life hell for you, I punished you even though I knew it was wrong and unfortunately I was never there when you needed me the most.”

"I understood … that's why you were so absent. Grandma if I had known …”

"Marcel, my beautiful boy, you couldn't have known,” she explained with a smirk and takes his hand in hers. “I don't know if you remember it, but the two weeks when you were here alone when you were just seven years old were the nicest of my life.”

"I know, Nana. They were the best of my life too."

“Then you will surely remember how I taught you to play the piano.” 

Lady Wilson looks at the instrument and she was transported back in time for a few moments. She sees with her old eyes how she sits down with the boy at the piano, takes him on her lap and helps him to understand and learn.

Marcel gets the same thought and remembers, “Afterwards I taught Marisa how to play and my mother … she was proud of me, which was very rare. Only thanks to you.” 

Marcel leans forward and takes his arms grandmother in his arms. He hugs her and gives her a kiss of forgiveness. 

“I love you, nana.”

“I love you too, honey.”

Marcel moves away and drops back into his chair. He throws the pen away and was visibly exhausted from the stress of the past few days. 

He had been on his feet from morning to evening and personally chaired every important meeting. That was noticeable now, his strength was gone, and he had an insane headache from being deprived of sleep.

"You are going back to bed,” his grandmother puts the back of her hand to his forehead. “You have fever, you will collapse if you keep going."

"Nana, it's okay," Marcel stands up, picking up his jacket that was lying over the chair and puts it on. "I'm in great shape." He clarifies and walks away, but only a few meters before he collapses. 

He hit the floor like a wet sack, his daemon gasping next to him. 

"That's not good at all!"

Marcel …” Lady Wilson walks towards him, “you are a stupid, selfish boy." She reprimanded him, then helps him back on his feet. 

Then slowly and safely she leds him back to his room on the first floor of the house. 

"Carefully … Marcel!” She lowers her grandson onto the bed, takes off his jacket and undid his tie. "Can your little things wait?" She asked with a frown.

"Unfortunately, not," replied Marcel, feeling a pinching headache. "I think, I should have taken more breaks!”

"You should have done that," Lady Wilson remarked mockingly with a raised eyebrow. 

She pushes her grandson onto the bed, takes off his shoes and made sure he was comfortable before she spreads the covers over his weak body. Then she leaves the room for a moment and returns with a bowl of cold water, which she places on the nightstand.

"I'll take care of your little things, while you recover,” she spoke, putting the cool, soaked washcloth on Marcel's forehead.

"You don't have to," Marcel replied thankfully. "Just give me a phone."

"Stop arguing with me, you will rest, darling. Then, we will fly back to Oxford as planned to attend Lyra's baptism.” She said and pressed the washcloth on Marcel's forehead, “it’s already a shame enough that she was not baptized at birth."

"Her father ... Belacqua tell him that."

"Lord Asriel..." Grace sighed, "why did Marisa get involved with him?"

“My sister was nineteen and stupid. Asriel was twenty-seven, extremely wealthy and attractive. It was just a matter of time before both fell in love and like our mother, Marisa has special needs that she tries to satisfy too.”

“That doesn't justify that she spread her legs, let herself be fucked without fighting back and in the end she was pregnant!”

“See it positively, if Asriel would never have existed, God would not have given us Lyra.” He replied and pressed the cool rag on his forehead himself. “You can't change it, even mother couldn't."

"The almighty Stella ... I did something wrong with her upbringing."

"She hates you for that, by the way,” spoke Marcel with a giggle. “I remember exactly the day you two had your big fight when I was five, mother threw you out of the house.”

"Ding Dong, the old witch has finally disappeared." Said Lady Wilson in a tone sarcastic for her.

"What a day!” Marcel laughed with joy. “Anyway, did you talk to her when you were in Oxford a few days ago?"

"Me … No, she just looked at me, spoke not a single word as she was sitting next to Lyra's bed." Marcel's grandmother explains, rolling with her eyes, “Stella … I can’t understand this! She with her delusional and selfish belief in some magical beings that don't even exist."

"She always told us stories about it," recalled Marcel. "Zeus, Athena, Hercules, Hera and whatever their names are. She believes in these stories and that's what matters to her.”

“Your mother mocks the authority with that, she tramples our holy faith with her feet in the dirt.” Replied Lady Wilson venomously in a raised voice. “She has to believe in one single God ... The authority!”

"The Magisterium gives a shit about what Baroness Stella Mary-Ann Delamare, née Wilson, believes in, because she is untouchable … because she can allow herself anything what she wants, including to believe in a few old gods.”

"You are right, your mother is different." Lady Wilson replied thoughtfully. “Let’s let the subject rest or we’ll go insane.”

“I agree with you, besides, are you sure you can manage my little things?"

"Marcel, I'm a businesswoman. I run a business myself," she said with a wink as she carefully smoothes the covers. She comes a little closer to her grandson and gives him a kiss. “Try to sleep, I'll check on you later.”

Marcel grunted approvingly. He pulls his covers tighter around him and turns around as he closes his eyes.

* * *

Four days later

* * *

It was early in the morning and the sun was already shining in the Swiss mountains.

Slowly Marcel Delamare opens his eyes, sat up a little in his bed and stretches out his tired limbs. It was truly a pleasant feeling to finally feel healthier after the last four bad days. He was rested and feels himself ready to tackle new tasks.

His grandmother had arranged all the little things as he had imagined, but it was definitely too early to take Asriel out of circulation to protect Marisa and Lyra … La Maison Juste was still a powerless little child who had to grow up, therefore, he had to be patient and wait until the time was right.

To distract himself a little, he reads the morning paper. Since he was in Switzerland, it was written in German, which was not a problem, because he was just as capable of the German language as the rest of his family.

"Is there anything interesting to read?" Asked the owl after a few minutes of boredom.

"No, just the boring usual, but you can have the sports section," he offered her kindly.

“You read from my mind, pass the sheet of lies over!”

"As you wish, my owl friend!”

Carefully, Marcel removes the part of the newspaper and lays it out in front of the owl. Both of them devoted themselves now very attentively to reading, while they switched off their brains. Nothing could disturb them during their favorite pastime, not even Lady Wilson, who brought breakfast. 

They both read the newspaper for an hour until both finally managed to get up. 

First Marcel walks into the bathroom to wash himself and brush his teeth before he opens his suitcase and pulls out fresh underwear, a white shirt, and dark blue pants. Next, he got dressed, which didn't take long, but he had his problems with his collar. His hands tried to adjust it in vain until the door was suddenly open. 

"Hey Grandma, can you help me with my collar?"

The soft clicking of heels sounds and stops behind Marcel. Gentle hands adjusts his collar, but it was not his grandma's hands.

"Darling," said a soft voice.

"Sophia ..." Marcel turns around, very surprised and asks. "What are you doing here?"

"Mommy was worried about you," she answered with a sweet pout. “I traveled to Geneva to take care of you. After all, you were seriously ill, and I just had to nurse you back to health, Marcel … It’s was an honor to me.

"I'll interrupt you if you don’t mind … Don't you have to take care of Lyra?"

"Miss Morgan takes care of our little baby, while I am with you."

"But how did you get to Geneva?” He asked himself with a frown.

"Your father's airship," reveals Sophia, she starts to sort Marcel's clothes that were lying around in the suitcase. "As a member of the extended family,” she explains with a hidden smirk, “I have the right to do so, he told me.”

"Family member?" Marcel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Sophia, my love, you must be pretty popular if my father allows you that.”

"I will always be just the nanny," Sophia replied with a laugh. 

She knows that it was hard to believe, but she wasn't lying. She tells Marcel the truth. Marcel, however, was able to gain more from the statement than she suspected. He trusted Sophia, knowing that his niece is always in good hands with her and that shouldn't change either.

And he honestly adored this woman, who tried to pull herself off him so much that she was so attracted to him. 

But now, back in the present, both noticed as they enjoyed the silence that one was secretly watching the other. 

Marcel himself sneaks moments later behind Sophia, puts his big hands on her shoulders and begins to massage.

"You are tense dear,” he noted.

“I am, darling, the flight was very exhausting and lonely,” Sophia replied with a moan. “Then your state of health, which wasn't good for me.”

"I believe you about that, but you mentioned the word lonely.” Marcel giggled amused. "I think that's over now, my love.”

His hands are sliding tenderly and very sensual down her slim body until his arms wrap themselves around Sophia’s delicate body. Then with a jerk, Marcel pulls the nanny against his body. She herself moans briefly, slightly aroused.

"Marcel... I warn you …”

"What are you going to do about it, hm?" Marcel asked in a whisper, rocking Sophia gently back and forth. 

He smells the sweet parfum of the woman and feels too how Sophia calmed down for the moment as she just enjoyed it to be in his arms. 

"Darling,” Marcel whispers, asking the question again. But adds with a cheeky voice, “do you want to tie me to the bed?"

"And then I'll get the whip out of the closet and punish you!" She hisses angrily.

Her hands are grabbing now Marcel's wrists. She tries to push it away with all her strength and feels suddenly an aversion that she couldn't like. 

It irritates her so much that she kept cursing with anger, "take your dirty hands off me!" 

"Unfortunately, this is not possible,” said Marcel with a calm giggle and slowly and gently kisses her neck. 

Sophia in return puts her head back. She notices that the owl and her own meek panda are getting closer as she moaned with pleasure.

“My Darling, do you still want to punish me?" He asked in a whisper.

"I'm not sure anymore," replied Sophia in a whisper. 

She put her hands-on top of his, gently caresses his hands for just a moment before she tries to push it away once more.

"Why the hell are you still fighting your desires?”

Marcel turns her around, looking into her eyes, which are looking so innocent, even though he knows that she was actually very different. 

Sophia was wicked, she did not forgive anyone and had exploited her friends with no regrets. Sophia was also dominant like Marcel’s mother as he found out, but she wouldn't be in charge today.

With a jerk, he pushed her onto the bed. His left-hand rests on the soft blanket to the left of Sophia, who was breathing faster as Marcel brushes a strand of hair from her face and sensually caresses her beautiful face as well as her blushed cheeks with his thumb.

Sophia closes her eyes, she feels an unstoppable desire in herself and for the first time in her life she feels herself satisfied with a man, which she curses, but nevertheless she tried to rebel against it. 

"Marcel ..." she moans softly. "Please, let me go before we do something we will regret."

"No chance, dear ..." Marcel let go of her hands and leans over her with his whole body. "You want it ..." he said angrily when his eyes met Sophia's eyes, "You want me ..."

"You dam bastard," their mouths are slowly nearing until they are relentlessly pressing against each other for a passionate kiss. "I will never forgive you for that!” Sophia moans with a kiss and loosens his tie. “I will let you suffer until you are voluntarily lie at my feet.” 

"Don't be derogatory darling,” 

Marcel turns with her on the bed, Sophia was now sitting on top of him. Their hatred for one another knows now no bounds, their love for one another rose immeasurably and their mouths met again for a kiss.

“I knew you were just as depraved as me!” Said Marcel and harshly pulls Sophia towards him.

Sophia in return presses his arms on the bed, her nails are digging into his hand.

"I'm a lot worse than you will ever know,” she whispers and pulls her dress over her body, throwing it on the floor as Marcel did the same with his jacket before he looks silently again in Sophia’s innocent eyes, but she slaps him hard with the palm of her hand.

“What are you waiting for?” She asked with a smirk. “Fuck … Me, my beautiful boy.”

“This is my girl” 

Marcel encompass her body with his arms and pushed Sophia back onto the bed. He reaches for the covers and pulls it over himself and his lover. Then he carefully puts his arms around her and pulls her close as both of them are looking into each other's eyes, laughing.

Marcel’s hand slides down her body until it met Sophia's hand who led her further. They kissed again, tenderly until Sophia lifted her body and moaned. She rolls herself on the bed, her breathing quickening as they both continued their game.

“Darling, why don't we both go out today, what do you think?” Marcel asked with a moan, giving her a kiss. "I know the best place in town, where we can both be undisturbed."

"No … No … I'm not allowed to do that,” Sophia breaks into tears. “I don't deserve all of this!”

“Sophia …”

“No! no! no!”

Sophia crawls out of the covers and from the bed, confused by the situation. She had given herself to her lust, showing the monster what she was trying to hide, but now she feels this aversion again, she didn't want any of this.

"I'm so sorry," she puts her hands on her head, shaking it in disbelief as tears flowed. "I've lost control …. I am still Lyra's nanny."

"I don't care, love," Marcel admitted, slowly sliding off the bed. "When we petted your daemon together, you looked happy. You knew that this was exactly what you wanted.”

“That’s not true …”

“But that's it, it's true!” Marcel replied soothingly in a soft voice as he comes closer to the sitting and crying woman. “I could put my arms around you, rock you and could give you exactly the love you needed in this moment …. My dearest, you don't have to be afraid anymore. You can show your love for me.”

Marcel reaches for her hands and pulls the woman back to him. while their daemons finally unified as he hugs and rocks Sophia once more without a word. Sophia herself just puts her head on his chest, wraps her arms around his body while she imitated the rocking movement.

It was like a dance, a dance of affection and tenderness. The owl and the panda could only look up at them with big eyes while they lay cuddled together in a corner of the room. But all good had to end once, including the hug after a few minutes. 

It was Marcel who releases himself gently. He turns away and starts to pack the rest of his things into his suitcase. 

Sophia, who was clearly at the end of her nerves, watches him without emotion.

"Go to the bathroom and wash yourself." Marcel demands without even looking at her.

"Alright,” Sophia puts on her dress and walks to the door in a daze.

"Sophia,” Marcel stops her and turns around. “Tell my grandmother to go shopping with you, I'll cover the cost and reserve in the meantime a table at the La Favola tonight.”

Sophia nods in agreement without saying a word. She leaves the room and closes the door.

* * *

Hours Later, Downtown Geneva

* * *

Marcel Delamare steps out of the elevator and enters the La Favola restaurant in downtown Geneva. He walks to the entrance with his hands in his pockets and stops in front of the small table of the usher.

“Simon, I'll take over!” Calls the managers and greets the guest. "Good evening Monsieur Delamare,” he says in a perfect and accent-free english, shaking Marcel's hand too. “I am very pleased that you honor us with your hospitality. Lady Hayward already awaits you.”

"Perfect," replied Marcel with a nod. 

He follows the manager through the crowded restaurant until the two of them reached the deserted third floor high above the rooftops of Geneva. In the middle of the room, right by the window, Sophia was sitting all alone. Completely absorbed in herself as her daemon was sitting at her feet. 

Marcel himself hardly recognized her. 

She wore a beautiful long black dress, had put on discreet make-up, and had changed her hair which was now a little longer, tied into a braid which she had laid sideways over her shoulder. The blonde in her hair had become darker while the hairline itself showed its naturally black color.

On the table in front of her was lying an expensive handbag from, which she takes out her lipstick and a small pocket mirror. She opens the mirror quickly and refreshed the dark red color of her lips.

Marcel could now only watch her spellbound and he was almost embarrassed when he had to disturb her. 

Sophia herself was startled and puts hastily the lipstick and mirror, back into the handbag. Then she gives the handbag to her daemon, who leans it against the table. Afterwards, she gets up politely, looking nervously at Marcel who gave his coat to the waiter.

“A bottle of the best Château Lafite-Rothschild, that would be all.” 

The waiter himself bowed and withdrew from the room before Marcel slowly saunters over to Sophia.

“Sophia darling, please take a seat again.” 

Sophia nods, she takes a seat once more while Marcel managed the last few meters to the table and takes his place himself. Both slides back and forth a little to sit comfortably, while their daemons disappeared inconspicuously.

"You look lovely!" Said Marcel first, taking her hand, squeezed it, and politely gave a kiss on it.

"Well, your grandmother helped me just a little," she said with a chuckle. "I'm not exactly your sister, who shall we say is perfect."

"That's not necessary,” Marcel shakes his head, “I like you the way you are, simple and modest."

“I appreciate that, I have to say you look lovely tonight too.” 

Marcel had to smirk himself, the smile she gives him now was so incredibly beautiful and warm. She was just looking even more beautiful than in his dreams and so he was humble in his answer.

"Please, you look lovely,” Marcel spoke moments later with a slight smile and brushed a strand from her face. “I can't say that about myself.”

“Please don't be so humble, your suit is really stunning. Even your tie choice couldn't be better.”

“Sophia … she's so terrible! Lyra always chooses it for me. I am not capable of this.”

“Marcel, please ...” Sophia giggles like a schoolgirl. “Don't make yourself bad!”

“I really shouldn't,” Marcel smirked, adjusting his tie before he asks: "Have you ordered dinner already?"

"No, I wanted to wait for you. It would have been rude."

"I would have forgiven you, dear …”

The door opens and the bottle of wine was brought, which the waiter hands over to Marcel, who quickly opened it and then filled the two glasses halfway one after the other and hands moments later one of the two to Sophia.

Afterwards, both take the menu in their hands, but both could not keep her eyes off each other. They watched each other, while choosing their food without even moving a mine, but then something happened which Marcel had never expected: 

Suddenly he feels something wander up his leg. He looks at Sophia, who was absorbed in her menu, but finally notices him.

"Marcel, my darling, are you okay?" She asked with a frown.

"Hm, I'm just ...”

"I know honey,” she laughs with a seductive smile, acting suddenly very different from a few hours ago. “Please choose your dinner.”

"As you wish," 

Marcel looks back at the menu and tried to block out what was happening under the table. However, it drove him crazy until he finally looked pleadingly at Sophia.

“Sophia ...." Marcel coughs, he looks around nervously. “Please …”

"Relax, take care of your menu, leave the rest to me!” 

She lets her stockinged left foot continue to wander up her lover’s leg, she massaged then his crouch for so long until Marcel suddenly groaned inconspicuously with his hand in front of his face.

“Good boy,” Sophia laughs softly in response, amused, and withdrew her foot. 

Her daemon hands her shoe and she put it back on, knowing that she had just forced Marcel to lose his senses and thus proved that she had a lot of power over him. One look from her and little Marcel obeyed her on the spot. His dealings with his lover changed too.

“Dearest, may I ask if you've found the right dinner?” Asked Marcel after a few minutes of silence after he had caught himself.

"No, I can't decide," replied Sophia calmly, putting the menu away, "I'll let you choose my dinner."

"As you wish," Marcel quickly made a choice and placed the order, then the two continued their conversation. 

Both talked a little about their experiences here in Geneva, especially Marcel had to talk in detail about his business. Sophia herself, on the other hand, described her little trip and told him something about Lyra, who was already feeling better. She was still weak on her feet, but her symptoms of her illness were completely gone.

Then the food was brought, which was then eaten very quietly. Both were just looking at each other, didn't speak a single word and enjoyed the togetherness and tranquility of the atmosphere. In between, both of them looked down at Geneva through the large window.

Their daemons, who had gathered at the large window, exchanged a few words. The panda bear, who leaned with his body directly against the windowpane, was very talkative. The owl preferred to listen, she looks sometimes at Marcel and gives the panda only a few glances. Whenever she did, the bear's paw would always sneak up to her wings to caress it.

Marcel feels this and then always looks at Sophia who giggles briefly and continues to eat. So, the minutes passed and after an hour they had finished eating.

"The best meal I've ever had,” said Sophia satisfied. She throws her napkin on the empty plate, and picks up her glass, taking a sip.

Marcel, who nods silently, picks up his glass, and takes a sip himself. 

Sophia smiled at him. She takes the bottle of wine and filles his glass a little more, "I would like to repeat this evening.” She said. 

"I'm sure it can be set up, dearest. We could take Lyra with us."

"I would like that!” Sophia replied with a smirk.

"Me too!” Marcel leans his body over the table and kisses Sophia, who returns his kiss. "Do you want to dance honey?" He asked.

"I would like to do it," said Sophia with a seductive smile. 

Marcel stands up and holds out his hand to her, which she just gladly accepted. He leds her to the center of the room, pulls her gently to him, put one hand around her waist and takes Sophia's free hand with his other hand. 

Then both committed to swinging rather than dancing.

"We still have to practice that," said Marcel, giggling like a schoolboy. "Your movements are not very elegant. I'm sure Margaret could help you to improve it.”

"In any case, yes, I am a cruel dancer," replied Sophia as the light in the room was slowly dimmed. "Marcel ..."

"Let's do it right … If I weren't a gentleman, my mother would kill me."

"You deserved a beating at most," Sophia corrected him with a giggle and executes a slight pirouette.

"You are a gifted dancer,” Marcel noted, pulling his lover closer.

"Do you think?" Sophia asked as she begins to lead. "A little lie is always worth something, your mother taught me that.”

"I can see that very much in your demeanor. I am very amazed even though you were completely at the end a few hours ago!"

"That's right, I've only played with you so far.” she replied with a pout and gives him a kiss. “A little tear here and another there. Today was a foretaste of what to expect."

"Then I'm excited, because I like it when women are committed.”

"I didn't expect anything else either. I like it too when men are committed, especially when I dance.”

“When I think about dancing it brings back bad memories,” Marcel said with a smirk. “I remember an evening with my siblings when we were drunk.”

"Marisa and drink?" Sophia asked with a raised eyebrow, she performs another perfectly executed pirouette.

"Hm!” Marcel nods, laughing, “you should have seen her, she had drunk half the bar empty!”

“I don't think she will ever do that again,” replied Sophia with a loud laugh, but that laugh was quickly gone. She thought of the little girl named Lyra. “Marcel, your sister is now responsible for Lyra, she can no longer afford it.”

“I don't think so,” Marcel replied, thoughtful as his dancing mood was gone. “She still has this need in her. And now I feel the need to get out of here!”

“I have the same feeling,” 

Sophia broke away from him. She goes to the table with him, emptied her glass before she takes her purse and coat. Then she leaves the restaurant walking hand in hand with Marcel. Both got into the car that brought them outside of Geneva, back to the family estate of the Wilson family.

Once there, Lady Wilson was already waiting for them, but both past her without a word and walk into the Great Garden, where they sat down on a bench.

"Are you cold? Marcel asked a couple of minutes later.

"A little," answered Sophia.

She only saw Marcel disappear and come back in seconds with a blanket in his left hand. In the other hand he had an unmarked bottle, which he puts on the grassed floor, before he swings the blanket around himself and his lover.

Then, just a few moments later, both kiss each other as Marcel lifts Sophia and takes her on his lap, where she leans against his chest. Then he picks up the bottle again and gives it to Sophia for inspection. 

“Just a liquor that my mother made with my grandfather." He explains before he opens the bottle and helps Sophia to take a sip.

“This stuff isn't that bad!" She noted and takes another sip.

Marcel in return takes a sip himself, "My God,” he said surprised, “mother has talent, this is the best stuff in a long time. Marisa would freak out if she drank it."

"In rage?"

"Out of joy, she is an excellent wine connoisseur." said Marcel, taking another sip. "She can tell you exactly what the wine was made from. I also know that she's hiding the good things somewhere on Delamare Manor."

“Not much longer,” said Sophia, giggling. She reaches for the bottle again, but Marcel fought against her, which made Sophia all the more angry. "Be a good boy and give me the bottle!" 

“No, Sophia, please be a good girl!” Marcel broke away from her and steps back. “I'll give it to you later when it's almost empty."

“We'll see!” Sophia yelled and chases him through the garden. 

Neither of them noticed, that they were being watched. It was Lady Wilson who watches the game from her balcony.

"Our grandchildren ... they have always been jokers, Patrick!" She giggles and walks back from the balcony to her husband's study, who works at the desk. She takes a seat in her chair and says: “Marisa was especially up for some fun and a few pranks … poor thing."

"She's fine, Grace, don't worry!" He sooth her in a calm voice. "Lyra has almost recovered and Isa herself ..."

"Will have her hands full!” She replies, rolling her eyes. “She has to raise a child, she still has her research along with the leadership of Bolvangar and the Oblations Board."

"Grace," Sir Patrick looks up from his papers. “She doesn't have to raise the child alone, she has her mother and the two ladies named Hayward and Morgan who are very happy to help her and Asriel … he is also there.” 

"I won't tolerate this bastard in my house, and certainly not in the family, Patrick!"

"Grace, there is nothing you can do about it. Both of them have already moved into our old apartment." He said with a chuckle and takes a sip from his glass. "But my daughter has already taken measures to protect our family, especially Marisa and Lyra.”

“But that's not enough for me, what happens if …”

“Grace …” Patrick takes off his reading-glasses. “Stay calm, you have to learn to leave your family on their own."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked irritated, her daemon a red fox hissed.

"I know you take your role as family patriarch very seriously," Sir Patrick said, rising to his feet. "Our role is only to observe,” he adds with his hands in his pockets, “we are marginal figures, if this were a story."

"You're right, Patrick, but I will not be able to resist doing a few stitches during our visit soon."

"I'm sure you will," replied Sir Patrick, strolling on the balcony. 

He looks into the garden where Marcel and Sophia were sitting on the bench again and kissed each other. 

"Darling, you owe me some money."

"What?" Lady Wilson storms out onto the terrace. She puts her hands on the railing and saw the two lovers. "I should have kept my mouth shut." 

With gritted teeth, she reaches into her pocket and gave her husband the money. Then she walks back inside and closes the door.

Her husband continued to stand on the balcony. He looks up at the sky and laughed with joy. 

"You love to see this don't you?" 

He said with a wink and walks back into the house, back to his desk to work a little more.


	18. Family Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> January 2021 ..... adjustments

* * *

Somewhere in Brytain

* * *

Lord Asriel was on his way to Cambridge with his daughter, Lyra, to pick up his younger brother who, was waiting for him in a rehab clinic. 

The car journey itself took about two hours, leading father, and daughter through the rural regions of Brytain and was surrounded by a pleasant silence that Asriel used to organize his thoughts, which were a bit confused through the events of the past few days and weeks.

The cool country air, which blows in his face, while he was driving the car helps him to do this. The Air was also familiar to Asriel and lets him feel so comfortable that he fondly remembers spending countless days in the fresh air with his brother, as his daughter liked to do.

The world was still another then, a world in which Asriel could have raised young Lyra together with his great love Marisa in peace, without the chaos that was surrounding them every minute, every hour, and every day of their whole Life.

Snow leopardess Stelmaria often had such thoughts, which she preferred to keep secret from Asriel, but her human half always felt this desire. He would have liked to make this dream come true, however, they are both living in the present and not the past and Asriel realizes relatively quickly that they were almost there, both had almost reached Harry. 

But before the car journey could come to an end, Asriel first had to take care of his daughter, who was still sleeping soundly in the passenger seat beside him.

"Lyra, are you awake?" Asriel asked in a soft voice as he stops the car.

"Hm", his daughter grunts in response. 

She moves her head, rubs it briefly against the seat covers before she wants to fell asleep again together with her cuddly bunny "lovely Molly.” 

Unfortunately, Asriel had something against it. "Please, you have to wake up, my little monkey,” he says in a louder voice. “We're almost there.” 

"B… but … I .. w…. wa… want to … s…. sl… sleep n.. now." She replied, slowly opening her sleepy eyes, and yawning so loudly like her daemon, who peeks out from the blanket.

"I'm afraid that is not possible,” Asriel says, slowly coming closer with his face before he gives the girl a kiss. “I promise you …,” he gives her another kiss, “that you can sleep on the way back."

“If … n.. not, I… I'll t… te.. tell m…. ma… mama!” 

Lyra chuckles, she rubs her nose against her father’s nose as her gaze was diabolical and her father was seemingly a little impressed.

"Then I better do that!” He replied with a smirk, “we don't want to upset your beloved mommy.”

Asriel restarts the engine, continuing the car journey, which led father & daughter down the street for a couple of minutes before turning into a driveway, which led to the clinic, a large private property that at first glance looked like a normal mansion.

In front of the house there were some parking spaces, which were either used by the staff or the relatives like Asriel, who places himself on the first spot. Then he turns off the engine, unbuckled his seatbelt, gets out of the car, and helps his daughter out of the car.

Lyra stretches her limbs as she was standing on her own feet again. She yawns once more before her father helps her to put on her warm jacket.

At the same time the girl takes a closer look at the house, carefully inspecting it until she was suddenly startled. “Papa … “ She calls for him as windows with bars came into her field of vision, which scared the child so much that she immediately clung to him.

“Don’t be scared, It's all right, monkey!” He said soothingly as he picked up Molly and locked the car. “We're only here for a few minutes, I'm trying to get everything done as quickly as possible.” 

He holds out his hand and Lyra grips it in fear as she gives him a look he had already seen in Svalbard and Asriel understands. His handshake becomes a little firmer and his expression friendlier as both starts to walk hand in hand.

They continued on their way, which leads both over a stone surface, which cracks as loud as Lyra has never heard it. She lowers her gaze, looks briefly at the stones, and barely notices how she with Molly in arms, and her father pass the small stairs and finally enter the house.

The entrance hall of the house seemed very nondescript, almost narrow, when father and daughter breathed for the first time. A strange feeling was suddenly released as both let their eyes wander to explore their surroundings until Asriel’s eyes fixed on the reception, where a good-looking nurse was just starting her service for today.

"Ma'am?"

"Hello, I wish you a good morning." The nice lady raises her hand and waves father and daughter to her as she takes a seat in her chair. "What can I do for you?" She asked with a slight smile.

"I would like to pick up one of the patients ... My brother, Michael Harrison Belacqua," Lord Asriel replied, returning her smile.

"Harry ... what a nice man!” The lady chuckles while she leafed through her register and quickly finds the appropriate entry for the patient. "Harry is already expecting you,” she says, “please go up the stairs to the second floor, room 21."

"Thank you very much.” 

Asriel nods and continues on his way and slowly climbs up the stairs until he could enter the hallway of the second floor together with Lyra, but suddenly both stopped once more.

"Very strange, this house," remarked Stelmaria. 

Pantalaimon, who was sitting on her back looks at Lyra, who was clearly insecure and clung a little tighter to her father. Her father himself caresses her cheek soothingly as he looks around a bit. Everything seemed so deserted, no one was to be seen. Not even noises could be heard, the whole hallway was as quiet as a church. 

"How Harry could end up here ..." Asriel shakes his head in confusion, continuing to walk down the hallway until he reaches room 21. 

When Asriel and Lyra are standing in front of the door, which would lead them into room 21, Asriel personally knocks a few times decently on the door and enters the room with his daughter.

"Harry... Are you there?”

"Asriel ..." 

Harry steps out of the bathroom and for the first time Lyra sees her alleged father, who was actually her paternal uncle. 

He was a little taller and with thirty years old, three years younger than his brother. His face was beaming with pride and his hair had a darker blonde color. Although both men were brothers, they looked little alike.

On Lyra, Harry seemed almost inconspicuously, even friendlier than her father, but he had exactly the same ego as his big brother, which only became more clear to Lyra when his daemon Lyla, a female puma, showed up. She was even more dangerous than Stelmaria, but she could also be gentle as she introduces herself to Pan and Lyra, while the brothers had a moment together.

"What can I say, brother ..." 

"Nice that you are not dead!" 

Asriel let go of Lyra's hand and goes to his brother, whom he immediately pulls into a hug. 

“I've missed you, little one!” 

“I missed you too,” Harry replied with a smirk, “nice that you are here!” 

He patted his brother on the back as he exchanged a few words with him, some of happiness and some of sadness. Then both brothers turned to young Lyra, who pressed her bunny against her chest. She eyed the two men, while Pan, in his monkey shape, was enthroned at her feet.

"Lyra Louisa, my fictional daughter.” Harry says with a sigh.

He takes a few steps closer until he was able to on his knees in front of the girl. Then, almost automatically, he stretches out his left hand and gently slides with his fingers over her reddish cheek, but the girl hesitates.

"N… nice … to m…. me… meet y… you, uncle," she said softly with some effort.

"It's an honor, Lyra!” Harry replies with a smirk. “You should know that I am glad that you are doing well, so what I am truly and honestly trying to say is that I'm very sorry for what happened."

"It do… doesn't h… have to,” Lyra replies, smiling slightly. “P… pa.. papa wo… would t… te.. tell me n.. not … to … g… get s…. sen… sent.. sentimental."

"Don’t say that!” Harry spoke as he gives her a kiss which made the girl sad. 

Tears formed and Lyra begins to sob in Harry’s arms as he picks up the girl. In turn, Lyra clings to her uncle, but still looks at her father, who is slowly strolling towards her.

“You are absolutely right, Harry … It's still traumatic for her,” Asriel added to his brother sentence, “she has yet to come to terms with it.”

“I understand, so then we let the subject rest,” Harry replied, taking a seat on the bed with Lyra on his lap. "Did you find my wife?" He asked and changes the subject.

"She is in fact in London," Asriel replied with a sigh, taking a seat on the bed too and clasped his hands together. "As soon as she got the news that I was rich again,” he continued with a laugh, “she came out of her hole, wherever that was."

"Very typical of my wife,” noted Harry, feeling sad. “She has not visited me once … a lot has changed since the crash, and so has she, you know."

"She has always been special, your aunty." Asriel explains to his daughter. “She is as stubborn as your mother is sometimes and very proud.”

"A.. all … the wo… wom.. women yo… you .. kn.. know are … l… li.. like t… th.. that." Lyra nots sarcastically with a smirk.

"You're right about that!" Asriel replied with a chuckle, while he looks at his brother and puts his hand on his shoulder. "Can we go now, or do you have to sign something?"

"I have to pick up my rules of conduct from one of my therapists." Harry said bitterly, giving his brother a meaningful look.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Asriel asked with a frown.

"I have to stick to certain things,” Harry replied annoyed, “otherwise I can plan my next vacation here." 

The food and furnishings weren't very luxurious, and it was really annoying to think about that. 

Also, for his brother, who then said: "I know who that was. I should have known."

"I can imagine!" Said Harry and patted Asriel on the back. "But we'll deal with that later. Let's get out of here. I'll go mad if I stay here any longer."

Once Harry's suitcase was packed, the three of them disappeared towards London, where they would spend the night in Asriel's apartment, which was located in Chelsea. The apartment itself was furnished in an old-fashioned way. One large bedroom, two guest rooms, a study, a kitchen, and a bathroom. 

"It still looks the same, brother!” Harry notices with a laugh.

"I've used it rarely,” Asriel explains, “I was more in the north than here."

"In b…. b… bet.. between y… you v… vis.. visited me," added Lyra.

"I did, Lyra!” Asriel replied, “please take your bag of colored pencils and move with it into the little guest room.”

“Why?” Lyra asked with a pleading look. “I … I w.. want .. to .. s…. st.. stay wi… with you.”

“My little lovely monkey,” Asriel goes on his knees, “Uncle Harry and I need to discuss something.” 

“Okay!” 

Lyra looks sadly at her feet, but her father gives her a comforting kiss. “I will play later with you,” Asriel promises, giving her a pat on the bottom. His daughter trotted off, but she quickly notices something else when she was standing at the living room.

"Papa, there is a strange woman sitting in our living room!" 

"What?" 

Called both brothers and chased to the living room with very angry looks, where suddenly both stopped in amazement. 

"Abigail?!"

"Boys," spat the countess with a smirk.

She gets up from the couch and strolls over to the two men and the girl while her black, slightly curly hair that fell artfully over her shoulders attracted everyone's attention. Both men and the child could only marvel when the woman stood in front of them.

“Good to see you!” Asriel and Harry spat in a daze.

"Good to see you both too!” Abigail replied, beaming with a smile at the two brothers. “I thought, when my husband comes home, I should be there." She continues and turns to her husband, who himself was of the same opinion but had something to complain about.

"You should have come to see me earlier!”

“Now I'm here, honey!” 

“A very good excuse,” Harry pulls her close and kissed his wife, who wraps her arms around him. "I missed you." He said sadly.

"I missed you too, honey." She answered with a sob, resting her head on his chest. “I'm sorry that I didn't visit you, when you needed me.”

“Abigail …” Harry slowly combs her hair and continues: “Don't blame yourself for that. That is forgiven and forgotten.”

“Ohhhhh Harry ….” She gives him another loving kiss and slowly pulls away from the hug. She adjusts her dress before her gaze, which was always very alert, notices young Lyra.

"Who do we have her?" She asked her brother-in-law with a smile.

"May I introduce Lyra ... Countess Abigail “Talia” Belacqua," explained Lord Asriel to his daughter as he gently pushes the girl forward.

"Hello aunty," Lyra greeted in a soft voice.

"Hello Lyra, I finally see you again." Abigail greeted in return with smirk. "I fondly remember the time you were a little baby," she continued, combing Lyra's hair with her fingers. "You always screamed very loudly when you didn't get what you wanted.”

"That is well known," added Lord Asriel with a chuckle. "Our Lyra Louisa is a bit shy, some days very clingy.”

"It runs in the family, except, of course, Lyras stuttering, which you told me about in your letters, Asriel."

“What?!” Abigail’s husband blushes. "She wrote to you?" He asked in disbelief. 

His face clearly shows his anger, as did his daemon, which hissed slightly and frightens Abigail's daemon off. Asriel immediately steps to her side and kept his brother at a distance. 

"Harry, she found me, without her I couldn't have tracked you down and got you out of the hospital!"

"Then why didn't she write to me?" Harry asked annoyed.

"I didn’t know what to do! I'm sorry, darling!" Abigail walks up to him with open arms, but her husband pushed her away. 

"Leave me alone!" He mumbled and stumbles away into the larger of the two guest rooms.

“My honeypie …” His wife looks at him as she shed a tear. 

Her brother-in-law puts one hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, I'll fix that.” Asriel sooths and moves away from Abigail. 

Then he runs out of the living room, down the hall until he reaches the large guest room near the end of the hallway.

"Harry?” Asriel calls softly as he enters the room.

"What do you want? He mumbles back, standing at the bed. 

Lyla growls, she sneaks around him, giving Stelmaria a disgusted look, but that didn't deter Asriel nor Stelmaria.

"I know, I overwhelmed you with it,” Asriel said, taking a seat on the bed. “I'm sorry, I should have told you.”

"Don’t blame yourself!" Harry sighs with a hand movement, "I shouldn't have acted like that in front of Lyra or my wife.”

“Harry it was a rough time for you, Abigail will understand it and Lyra … she's used to it, don't worry," Lord Asriel replied knowingly.

“Asriel … I’ll don't want to hurt my family with it.”

“You don’t do that! I hurt you with it! It's all my fault, I should have looked for you after the zeppelin crash.”

“That wouldn't have changed anything,” Harry sighed.

The room went quiet for the next couple of minutes. 

The brothers relaxed, had some time to think while Lyra checked on them briefly on behalf of her aunt. She gives both brothers a thoughtful look, asks her questions and closes quietly the door before she returns to her aunt, while both brothers resume the conversation.

"Are you going to go back to your old job as a lawyer?"

"I'm officially considered death, bro." Harry giggled in amusement and gives his brother his typical sarcastic expression. "Nobody, I said nobody would hire an old drunkard like me." 

“What if there was a way out through the new family?" Asriel suggested, "I know of a solution…”

"Asriel,” Harry gives him a malicious look, “I will not sell my soul to that bastard! I would rather die."

"Harry …” Asriel laughs out amused, “you are the best lawyer in London and Oxford together!”

“I know! But why does it have to be just him?”

“I cannot give you what you ask for, my reputation is not exactly the best at the moment.”

"But, we swore to be our own boss."

"But we have to let it rest now," Lord Asriel spoke pleadingly, "we may be rich, but that doesn't provide the power we need right now!”

"Give me a reason why I should do this." Harry demands.

“The reason is …., “ Asriel stops briefly, “that we have to do something we don't like to find happiness … Harry you must know that I no longer have custody of Lyra, and neither does Marisa. Our hands are tied but we make the best out of it.”

"We will never be able to break free again!" Harry runs to the window, annoyed by his situation. "Why don't we get out of Brytain?” He asks his brother, “Lyra comes with us, to the Caribbean where we are safe!"

“Marisa’s mouther would find us," Asriel replied, his gaze was directed downwards. “Stella will defend the child until her last breath, she will not give her up without a violent and bloody fight!"

"So, our situation has not improved after all these years," Harry said sarcastically, turning to his brother. "All right, then we'll take up the fight against this bitch!"

"It's already in progress, Marisa is already working on it, but it will take some time, and I have a surprise in store for you."

"Hopefully, it will be a complete success," replied his brother, returning to the other topic. "The job ... are you sure that this bloody bastard of a grandfather will offer it to me?"

"Don’t worry, Marisa will take care of it," answered Lord Asriel with smirk. "I think with your ability’s … John Delamare cannot afford to reject you!”

"He gets me for free plus a good uncle for Lyra.”

"That is the Harry I know," Asriel stood up and hugged his brother. "I'm glad you're not dead. Love you, rkid."

"I love you too!" 

Both exchanged a few more words before they parted ways for the rest of the day. Asriel spends his time working in his study while occasionally checking on his daughter. 

Lyra herself spoke attentively to her uncle, who had joined her and his wife in the living room. Not only did he paint a picture with her, but he also answered Lyra's questions on judicial and legal issues as easily as he could. Harry also explained how the courts worked, how laws were made and everything else related to the subject.

Lyra was very impressed or better said fascinated by him. She had never seen someone, who could talk about a topic for hours. Her father watched this with a slight smile. The girl was back in her element and almost the same old child with her many questions during these hours. 

Then the evening slowly dawned as it slowly got darker in the world. Lyra's fascination eased considerably, she became calmer as her father had predicted. Her aunt was all the more pleased with her company, both ate dinner together and also take a bath together, just as Lyra had wished.

"Are you sitting comfortable?" Abigail asked after she had washed Lyra's body.

"Hm", Lyra grunts in response, she moves her head briefly and brushed her hair aside, like her mother.

Her aunt picks up the shampoo for the hair, spreads it a little in her hands and begins with tender movements to massage it in with her fingers, which gently pulled and slide through Lyra's soft hair.

"Wow … You have truly your mother's hair if I may tell you," Abigail wonders with a giggle, pulling the girl a little closer. "You know, honey, I've always envied her a little."

"Why?" Asked Lyra.

"She is so elegant and yet so modest in some ways," Abigail replied softly. "You have to know that I know your mother very well.

“Te.. tell me more!”

“The first time I saw her was at a charity event with your grandmother, when she was nineteen,” Abigail recalled. “She raised money for a foundation, and she did her job very outstanding. She pulled the money out of people's pockets like no other.”

“My f…. fat… father?”

“On this very evening he met her for the first time. He was just as handsome as he is now and your mother fell in love with him instantly, but regrettably your mother was still married with Edward Coulter, who treated her badly.”

"So … was .. he a b… b.. bad m… m.. man?” Lyras asked worried.

“Yeah, one of the reasons your parents wanted to be together,” Abigail explained. “She wasn't like Eddy “I am the greatest” Coulter, she was actually very different in character. She has a vulnerable side, which was especially evident during her pregnancy."

"Mama never talks about it," Lyra replied, reaching out her delicate hand to her daemon, who was sitting on the edge of the tub. 

Gently, she lets her delicate fingers slide through his cat's fur and notices how much she missed her mother at the moment. 

She imagined that Marisa was sitting behind her, instead of her aunt. She was the one in her mind, who washes her hair with the same delicate movements. Also, Lyra hears her mother’s soft voice, the low chuckle that she liked to hear, and of course she smells her mother's scent, which was unmistakable.

Her aunt was aware of this, she had a feeling that something might be wrong. "Honey ... are you okay?" Abigail asked worriedly and turns the girl towards her. "Are you in pain? Do you feel uncomfortable?"

Lyra denied everything with a shake of her head.

"Mama?" 

Lyra confirmed with a sob. Her mouth begins to tremble as did her body when Abigail pulls her into a hug. 

"She misses you too, honey, I know how much you need her." She said, imagining what Asriel had written her. 

If Lyra didn't have her mother around for a few hours, she would start to cry and feel a longing that was unbearable.

Marisa had been firmly entrenched in Lyra's heart too since she was active in Lyra's life as a mother. She was her best friend next to her grandmother Stella. The only two who could calm the stuttering child and give her the love she needed most. 

Poor Abigail could only talk to the child. 

"Do not be afraid, you will see her again tomorrow at noon," she gives her a soothing kiss. "We'll finish washing your hair first, okay?" 

Lyra nods in agreement as the tears grow a little stronger. Her aunt notices this with concern, she reaches for the shower and washes off the shampoo as thoroughly and gently as possible. Then she takes the girl in her arms and lets herself sink into the warm water.

“It's all right, dear,” she said as it went quiet in the room. 

Only the drops of water could be heard as they cuddled together. Occasionally some of Lyra's sobs could still be heard, but then Abigail presses Lyra all the more softer against her and caresses her more tenderly, while she whispers soothing words.

Ten minutes later Lyra's father appears in the door. He just had to give his daughter a quick look and he could imagine what was going on. 

Without a word, he lifts his child out of the tub and dried her with a warm towel. Then, he helps his daughter to put on her bathrobe, grabs the waist belt, pulls on it once and tied a knot to close the robe tightly.

"Asriel…” His sister-in-law looks out of the tub once more. “She is tired, you should put her to bed."

"I'll do that in a moment,” Asriel replied as he reaches under Lyra's arms and picks her up without effort. 

He gently begins to rock the girl, who nestles tighter against his chest and thus gives her father a familiar feeling, when he feels the soft material of the robe that Marisa has bought. When he sniffed on it he could smell the scent of his lover. 

Lyra's remaining clothes were also affected. The child was very much like it’s mother in many ways. 

Asriel doubted at that moment that Lyra Louisa was much like him, but more like her mother, more like the Delamare family. Did he think that was a good thing? He couldn't judge that. He really doesn't want that either. Lyra was very dependent on him right now and that was enough for him.

"Time for bed, monkey." 

Asriel leaves his thoughts and opens the door of the bathroom. Quietly He enters the silent hallway and carried his daughter to the bedroom where he helps her to get ready for bed. 

Then Asriel picks up the phone and calls Marisa once last time for today. She, sitting in her study together with her sister, talks to Lyra for a while as Asriel waits in front of the door. 

Minutes passed and Asriel hears Lyra's sobs that get stronger and louder and forces him to enter the room. 

His daughter is crying, she is half holding the phone to her ear while she looks at him with a trembling reddish face.

“Honey, it’s okay ... Give me the phone!”

Asriel reaches out his hand and Lyra obeys. She hands the phone to her father, who immediately lifts it to his ear.

"Marisa ..."

"Asriel ... is Lyra all right? …. I'm worried!”

“A crying fit, nothing more! Asriel says through the phone, giving his daughter a handkerchief. “What did she tell you?” 

"Lyra misses me, of course," Marisa sighs, crossing her legs in her armchair. "Also, she told me about her uncle but then the tears came.”

“Very understandable,” Asriel noted with a smirk directed to Lyra. “Do you want to speak to her again? He asked his lover.

“Give me my baby, "

Asriel grunts and passes the phone to his daughter, who holds with a trembling hand the receiver to her ear.

“Mama?” 

“Lyra ... my little star, you have to do mommy a favor now, can you?”

“I … I … I’ll t…. th... think s….. s…. s… so,” Lyra replies, sobbing.

“So, my darling, you will now wipe the tears from your beautiful face and then you will, in your sleep, think up things, which we will both do when you get home, tomorrow.”

“I w….. w…. wi… will,” Lyra agrees, wiping the tears away. “I w…. wi... will co… come … up w…. wi... with n… nice t…. th… things.”

“I'm really looking forward to it,” Marisa chuckles, looking at her mother who enters the room. “I wish you a pleasant sleep together with sweet dreams, Mama loves you!”

“Nana loves you more!” Stella yells as loud as she could and makes with it Lyra laugh, who was still on the other side of telephone line.

“Lyra, mama loves you more than grandma ever could!” Marisa clarifies with a chuckle. “Good night, my little star, sleep tight!”

“G… go.. good ni.. night, mama, I love you!”

“I love you too, honey! Goodbye!” Marisa says and hangs up the phone.

* * *

The Next Morning In The Chelsea District, London

* * *

When Lyra opens her sleepy eyes, it was just before 7 a.m. 

She yawns softly as her daemon stretches his tired limbs out beside her and gently moves away from the still soundly sleeping Stelmaria. Lord Asriel himself was still asleep too, he was so deeply asleep that Lyra could easily give him a good morning kiss, raise his hand around her body, and slip out of the cuddly warm covers.

Lyra gets out of bed and trudges quietly out of the room with Pan in tow. Even the creak of the door, which would have woken her mother, didn't bother her father. So. she carries on and marches straight into the direction of the kitchen, from, where an extremely enjoyable scent came over her.

She couldn't ignore it and peeks quietly into the kitchen. Her uncle was already busy making pancakes. He waves the spatula around like he was the best cook in the world. Even the still sleeping countess herself couldn't cook as well as the count himself.

"Uncle?" 

"Good morning,” Harry turns around, smirking, “I hope I didn't wake you up."

"No, do.. don't w… wor.. worry.” Lyra answered and steps a little further into the kitchen. “I w.. woke … up … by m…. my… myself. Papa … is s… still s…. slee… sleeping.” 

“Let him sleep, he recommends and points to the table with the spatula, “please, take a seat, the breakfast is almost ready.”

With a giggle, Lyra pushed with some effort one of the chairs back and climbs on it, while her uncle prepares a plate for her and then places it moments later on the table with a small pot of syrup. 

Lyra picks it up immediately and carefully trickles the sweet liquid over the cut pieces. She was careful not to take too much, otherwise she would have terrible stomach pains and she wanted to avoid that.

In addition, she thought of her mother once more. 

Lyra could imagine how she would take the fork now and starts to feed her, but that had been history for a few days. Her beloved bottle, which Lyra now kept in a box, has also been put away for good.

When Lyra takes the first bite herself, it feels so good, like she was eating her cereal, that her grandmother always had her served for breakfast. 

Her smile couldn't hide her joy. She ate better than she had in a long time. In less than thirty minutes she had emptied her whole plate and her uncle could only marvel. "You have a healthy appetite, dear!" He said with a giggle.

"I … I am a…. ama.. amazed my.. myself," Lyra replied with a smirk. 

She reaches for her glass, which her uncle had filled with some juice and takes a big sip.

"Lyra ... at least it shows that you will get well again." Harry said with a laugh and briefly caresses the cheek of his niece before he continues to eat his own breakfast. By the way, he gives his niece the morning paper.

She opens it and preferred to look at the pictures instead of reading the articles. She just didn't feel like it, however, after a few minutes, she picks up a pen and looks for a large picture of a person, which she then embellished with a low chuckle. 

She gives the man a beard, very elegant sunglasses, and a little more hair at Pan's behest. 

"Now he looks like that politician on TV!" Pan giggles and rolls with joy on the table.

"Direct hit." Lyra answered with a laugh. 

She lets her legs dangle in amusement and bit her tongue gently as she continued to scribble. She pricks up the man's ears and gives him a big hat to complete the picture.

"A Vulcanian!" she said and puts the pen aside, looking again at her work and correcting something, then suddenly her father was standing behind her. Asriel had his hands folded behind his back as he looks down at her work with great interest. 

"Lyra, please try to show your creativity in class with Mrs. Morgan or Mrs. Hayward."

"Yes, father!" Lyra puts her left hand to her mouth. 

She giggles loudly and infected her uncle, who was looking at her father who didn't seem very enthusiastic.

"Don't be so strict with her,” Harry whispered and pinches his brother's arm briefly, who in turn grimaces in pain and suddenly feels an unsuspecting joy.  
"That is really a beautiful picture, Lyra!" He said with a false grin as he unobserved pulls his arm away.

"Thanks papa, I made it especially for you!" Lyra answered and reaches for her glass, which she emptied. 

Afterwards, she jumps up from her chair and puts her arms around her father, who was forced by a look from Stelmaria to continue to praise his daughter. "Mama will be very pleased,” he said, “when she sees what a masterpiece you have created."

"I can only agree," Harry started with a low chuckle, “Our little Lyra is a true artist."

"I am," Lyra replied, she beams with a radiant smile that Asriel had seldom seen and was forced to go on his knees and to take Lyra in his arms.

"It's good to see you laugh, darling! “ He spoke, giving her a kiss as he starts to fool around with her. 

He joked a little about Lyra's mother until he suddenly grabs under her arms and throws her into the air and catches her once more. 

"I've always enjoyed doing that with you!” Asriel said with a chuckle.

He infected Lyra with it, she moves a little more in his arms, she lets her legs dangle as she liked to do.

"Y… you a…. alw… always th.. threw me … up t… ten t…. tim… times,” she remembers, laughing like crazy.

"Ten times?" 

Asriel tosses the chuckling Lyra back in the air, she laughs so loud that it woke her aunt, who immediately sat up and tiredly rubs her eyes. She glances at the clock before she’s getting up and picks up her black satin robe. 

A few moments later she steps out of the room, while Lyra was thrown into the air one last time before she takes a seat at the table with her father once more, but as soon as they were seated, the doorbell rang.

"I'm going … Hang on out there!" 

Abigail calls and slowly trudged to the door. But when she opened the door, she was shocked and amazed at the same time.

* * *

The End Of The Second Act

* * *


	19. Changes

Yawning softly, Sophia opens her still sleepy eyes. 

She stretches out her bent feet, trying to made her bigger than she was just for a few moments until she could no longer and lets out a satisfied moan and collapses back onto the bed, beside Marcel. 

Marcel himself was still asleep and wrapped firmly in his covers as his lover turns on the bed. She could hear and feel now his gentle breathing and smells his scent, which had mixed with her perfume, when she had sex with him last night.

The night itself had been a lovely one after both had visited the same restaurant together they'd been to on their first date. This special place in downtown Geneva was the one, where both had felt most comfortable and could eat a little something in peace while both chatted with the other about their life so far.

Later, on this very evening they went straight back to the airship, which was waiting for them a few minutes outside Geneva. Once there, they entered the airship and retired to their cabin, where both took time only for each other.

Sophia fondly remembers these memories when she was lying beside Marcel. And of course, she feels a certain sadness, because this very moment was over, and it would never be the same again in her whole life.

The still sleeping Marcel had the same unconscious feeling in his sleep. He unconsciously felt too that his lover was slowly coming closer to him. She kissed him first on the forehead and then on the mouth, waking him up too.

“Honey,” Marcel said in a whisper. “That's what I call a good morning kiss!” 

He frees his arms from the covers, puts them around his lover’s body and pulls her to him as their mouths met just like their tongues. They rolled on the bed and slipped back under the covers together.

Sophia groans with a chuckle immediately, she kisses Marcel like she had never done it before and Marcel loves her in turn like he was never able to do it, which only proved even more that this man and this woman, were made for each other. Both knew that and let the other feel it until both sank back on the bed out of breath a couple of minutes later.

“You had your fun, dear,” chuckles Marcel, “now you have my permission to get dressed.”

His head came closer and his lips pressed another against Sophia's tender lips for a loving kiss.

"Many thanks, honey,” Sophia said with another kiss, “I am honored by your grace.”

She slips out of the covers and parts ways with him, retiring to one of the two smaller rooms adjoining the large room, where she had left her suitcase from which she takes out fresh underwear, a new pair of black garter stockings which she hands to her daemon and an elegant simple dark-grayish dress.

She walks to the little table, places her clothes on it before she first puts on her underwear. 

“Stocking!” She says grumpily and the meek panda hands her fearfully and carefully the coveted item of clothing, which she first rolls up, then pulls over her toes and then up her leg until it fits properly, and she could attach it to the garter belt. 

Marcel, who has already dressed, strolls slowly into the room with his arms crossed. 

“You have to do it slowly,” he notes with arms crossed.

Sophia unimpressed gives him a quick look before she pulls on the stocking a last time. “You little naughty lout,” she says in a sweet voice and looks maliciously to the sitting panda.

The panda himself hands her in turn the second stocking, which Sophia abruptly snaps from his tender paw. She begins slowly to roll up like the first one, while Marcel walks further into the room as Sophia pulls her other stocking seductively up her leg. 

“Don't you have anything else to do at the moment?” Sophia asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Not at the moment," Marcel replies as he gets on his knees in front of her. 

He reaches slowly out his left hand and lets his fingers glide slowly up her leg.

"My father," Marcel remembered, "always watched my mother when she put on her stockings when I was younger. I think too she deliberately did it for him and one fine day I was standing in the room ...” 

Sophia’s lover stops to talk, he remains silent as his eyes where fixed on Sophia’s hand, which were still holding the stocking.

"You don't have to be embarrassed.”

Sophia, massaging his light brown hair with her free hand. She combs it with her delicate fingers before she places both hands on his face and straightening it up to look into his stormy gray eyes. 

"Did your mother talk to you about what you saw?" 

"Not until later, but before when I was still a very young teenager, my mother played with me. She deliberately embarrassed me and drove my senses insane. For her it was just a daily pleasure and I truly wished that I could have told my father, but he was too busy.”

"I can understand you very well," answered Sophia, "Could you talk to your siblings about it?" 

"With the two chickpeas? … No … No chance and my brother had his own problems.”

"All right,” Sophia nods, attaching the stocking to the garter belt. “You can talk to me about it anytime!”

Sophia gets up from her chair and takes her dress, which she lets skillfully slide over her body. She adjusted it with her hands before she slips into her black pumps. She gives him another kiss and walks straight into the bathroom to fresh up her make-up. 

Marcel, lost in his thoughts. steps out of the cabin and made his way to the airship lounge, where his grandmother was already having breakfast.

* * *

* * *

The rain clouds threatened a bad thunderstorm, a strange warm wind was blowing through Sophia’s blond hair and the Delamare family house looked darker and more impressive than Marcel, getting out of the car, had ever seen it before.

"I have really a bad feeling about that!”

“Marcel,” Sophia steps beside him, “there is something wrong.”

With a hum, Marcel walks slowly with short steps to the door with an arm around Sophia, who seemed more insecure the closer she gets to the door. She was trembling too, which forces her to hide her hands in her trench coat pockets.

“Stay calm, my love!” 

Marcel turns to her and gives her kiss, but Sophia's tension would not let up.

“There's a curse on this house right now, the signs don't lie.”

“Then I suggest we cast a spell and counteract the curse.”

Both turn their heads and looked at Lady Grace with a meaningful look.

“Simsalabim,” Grace mumbles angry, “now enter this fucking house.”

“Granny, no swear words, please.”

Marcel nots with a giggle and opens the door, but when he was standing in the house he lets his hand fall around Sophia in amazement.

On one side of the house, in front of the door to the large living room, Stella, John, Margaret and Matthew were standing around the kneeling Marisa, who was hugging her daughter.

On the other side near the stairs where standing the Belacquas, consisting of Lord Asriel, his younger siblings Harry and Caroline, along with their father Robert and Countess Abigail.

The three people standing at the door realized that there was a tension that would soon explode. The war had started and in this hurricane of hatred and intrigue, Marisa and her daughter were standing in the eye of the storm.

"I hope we don't disturb the family reunion," said Marcel with a smirk to defuse the situation. 

In turn he receives only skeptical looks. Everyone in the entrance area made a face and knows no other option, but to look angry at the other, except for Lyra. She broke away from her mother’s embrace and walks with quick steps to her uncle.

"I .. I mis… missed y… you!" She greeted with a giggle.

"I missed you too, peanut!" Marcel answers softly.

He drops his suitcase to the floor and goes on his knees, reaching out his left hand to caresses Lyra's slightly reddish cheek. 

"Do you already feel better?" He asked with a smirk.

"A little,” Lyra replies, squeezing his hand, “I .. am s…. still w… weak, you k... kn.. know."

Marcel nods in agreement, his gaze wanders across the room once more and he feels that all attention was on him, which was pretty scary because he was never the attention-grabbing guy. 

Let alone Sophia, who stood behind him and kept whispering in panic that both should withdraw as soon as possible before the situation becomes uncomfortable for both of them.

"All right … we'll retreat!” He whispers back and looks down at Lyra. 

She was watching him curiously with her daemon on her shoulder as Marcel holds out his arms and winks at her inconspicuously. Lyra understood quickly. She takes a few steps forward and was picked up by her uncle.

Marcel then immediately pushes past the Belacquas and walks up the stairs together with Sophia to the second floor, where all three entered Marcel’s room.

"That was scary," nots Sophia, closing the door. 

“There were more sinister things that happened in this house.”

Marcel places his niece onto the bed and picks up his suitcase. He walks with it to the table where he places it and starts all by himself to put the stored into the wardrobe.

Lyra, crawling on Sophia’s lap, soon begins to talk about her hospital visit, the trip with her father, which was delayed a few days until she told more about her move to the first floor. 

"Don't be sad Lyra,” Marcel noted, putting his suitcase under the bed, “it was only temporary, so Grandma Stella could nurse you back to health.” 

"B… but I've … got u… used … to … it a l… lot!” Lyra replied, lowering her gaze.

"Darling, all good things must pass someday. You can still crawl into grandma's bed at night." Sophia said with a chuckle and hands Lyra the gift bag she had put together on her last day in Geneva. 

The gift bag itself contained, among other things, some Swiss delicacies such as cheese and chocolate, a few postcards and brochures about Geneva and a small snow globe, which Sophia had bought in a small store outside Geneva, in a small town.

"I hope it cheers you up a bit," 

Marcel adds after quiet moments. He takes the snow globe in his hands and shakes it strongly until it begins to snow in the sphere over Geneva. 

His niece, overjoyed about the little winter dream, passes the snow globe to Sophia, and throws herself onto her sitting uncle and pressed him onto the bed, trying to tickle him, but she just couldn't find a tickle spot, so the omniscient Sophia helps a little and leds Lyra's hand down Marcel’s body until he begins to laugh like a schoolboy and rolls over the bed as Lyra intensives her attack. 

“Give up!”

“No way! I will defend myself until I’ll chuckle myself to death.”

Moments later Marcel manages to grab hold of Lyra’s arms and pulls his niece onto the bed, where it rained kisses for the girl until she laughed out loud and must admit defeat. 

“You lost, chickpea!”

“J… ju.. just b…. bec… because mo… momma … isn't … h… he.. here!”

“Nor could she have prevented your defeat, peanut!”

Marcel reaches out his hands, warps it around Lyra and pulls her to him to cuddle with her.

Sophia who watches the lovingly sight silently leaves the room. She didn't want to risk that her young relationship was exposed so soon, therefore she pays a visit to Annabeth Morgan, who was in her room, currently correcting the last of the many math worksheets Lyra had filled out in Sophia's absence.

"Can you already see a trend?" Sophia asked.

"She has huge gaps in knowledge," Annabeth replied, 

Sophia grunts, she opens the belt of her coat and pulls it off her body, “describe it,” she said, “I want to know more.”

"Lyra's lessons,” Annabeth said as she puts down the pen, “wasn't very profound at this college if you ask me."

"What do you mean, Annie?” Sophia asked, walking to the desk, and taking a seat in the second chair beside Annabeth.

“She has serious problems to solve a simple math problem,” Anna answered. “She can't even write correctly, let alone recite the ABC correctly and that makes me very angry, not with Lyra but with the college, what a shame."

“Don't get upset, sweetie. She is tender six years old! Nothing is lost!”

"Honey, she has lived in a college and ...” Annabeth broke off the sentence. 

She leans forward and begins to caresses her owl daemon, remaining silent too.

“Sweetie, it's of no use to blame others,” Sophia said after a while. “We just have to get it out of our minds and make it better.”

“You're so right, do you want to take a look at Lyra's work?” 

"Show me!”

Annabeth nods, she shifts in her chair and reaches out for a blue folder, which was lying on top of a few books. Out of this folder she takes a few worksheets and places it in front of Sophia.

Sophia herself moves a little closer to the table and begins to looks through the worksheets one after the other, but soon she was shocked.

"Get our little student over here,” she ordered in a serious voice.

Annabeth raises immediately from her chair. She walks out of the room and returns a little later with Lyra in tow.

“Take a seat, please.”

“Yes, Miss Morgan,” 

Lyra walks, follow by Annabeth, to the table and crawls on the chair in the middle. Pan, in the shape of an eagle rises into the air and lands on Lyra’s shoulder, turning back there into a rabbit, which made itself comfortable on Lyra’s lap.

“Lyra, my dear,” Sophia speaks, “we need to talk about your worksheets, you have filled out in my absence.” 

“Did I do something wrong, nanny? Am I being punished now?”

“Of course not,” chuckles Annabeth, “It's your first teacher-student conversation.”

“Is that bad?”

“No, my darling!”

Annabeth reaches under her chair, lifts it, and moves with it a little closer to the table. Sighing, she picks up another folder with a few worksheets inside and puts in front of Lyra.

“Take a look at it first!” Sophia said in a calm voice and opens the folder.

Lyra nods, she begins to inspect the worksheet with her brownish eyes and mind. She notices very quickly and with great concern that Annabeth's red corrective writing was everywhere over the sheet. The teacher, so noticed Pan, found many mistakes in every exercise Lyra had edit.

The girl itself was so scared by this knowledge that tears are forming in her eyes, knowing too that her performance was lousy. 

"You see that we still have a lot of work to do,” Sophia nots, placing a box of sweet scenting handkerchiefs in front of Lyra.

“I’m s…. so… sor.. sorry, n…. nan.. nanny …” Lyra sobs, pressing her hands together.

"Lyra nobody blames you,” Annabeth said putting an arm around the girl, “Darling, you are so tense when we’re together, you talk very little to me and you dare yourself very little.”

“Because I am afraid!” Lyra yells back.

“Right,” Annabeth smirks. “you are feeling a fear that is preventing you from showing your true strength and that we, my dear, need to get under control as soon as possible!”

"That means," Sophia continues, “that it will be a lot harder than we expected. You will have to learn a lot, catch up on a lot of what is still missing and in this regard we do not come over to give you extra tasks outside of the regular lessons. Do you understand that, dear?"

Lyra nods again, snatching a handkerchief, and wiping the tears from her face.

"Now Lyra,” Annabeth said, sorting the rest of the sheets into the blue folder, “you will create more folders for English, Economics, Geography, and History. I'll give you too a kind of diary in which I have written your timetable for this and next week and you, my dear, will continue it.”

"Yes, Miss Morgan!”

“Good, you can go now.”

Annabeth replies and hands Lyra a few folders and the diary, before the girl disappears into the Belacqua Apartment on the first floor.

* * *

* * *

Lyra’s uncle, Matthew, was sitting alone in his study, trying to process the new situation before he would take further action’s. 

It suited him very well that several Belacquas were now living in the house, and it gave him the opportunity to make family life more pleasant for his niece despite the looming conflicts.

His sister, Margaret, who had been involved in his plans, thought the same but she was still a little unsure whether it was really the right thing to rebel against their own parents. The plan was still complex, the risk high, but it would be worth to reunite the family. 

Powerful enemies were still out there, and a strong family would be the best defense against such attacks. 

Nonetheless, Matthew had also begun to develop doubts, and he tried to distract himself. He played with the phone and thought about calling his confidante Wendy, a close friend of his mother.

Wendy, who works as a therapist, had always been there for him since childhood, no matter what Matthew had on his mind. She gave him love, when he needed her and comforted him, when he was disappointed by his friends or family. 

In summary their relationship was special, which was also reflected on a sexual level.

Caroline Belacqua, who had no idea what was going on in Matthews' thoughts, entered the study without permission and pulls the young man out of his thoughts as she takes a seat in front of the desk.

"What can I do for you?" Matthew asked grumpily.

"Not much," Caroline replied with a smirk. "I just wanted to introduce myself, because our first meeting was very much influenced by my brothers.”

"All right,” Matthew grumbles and looks first carefully at the very attractive young lady sitting in front of him.

Somehow he liked her grin, which she gave him. She also exuded something strange in contrast to her brothers, something warm and soothing. Was it her long red hair that she had tied in a ponytail or was it her blue eyes that charmed Matthew so much?

Her clothes were completely different too, she wore a baby blue skirt and a white blouse, completely unconventional. She had nothing in common with her brothers, she was so very different, but still Matthew lets his own father’s nature look trough.

"I am Matthew in the case you didn’t know and my enchanting middle name you'll never know.

"Nice to meet you too, asshole. I am Caroline, but you can call me Carol, honey," 

“Carol, a proud name, a lovely one, but you can fuck off now!”

Caroline chuckles in turn, she brushes her bangs aside and slowly opens with two fingers her white blouse.

“I admit we got off to a bad start and I shouldn't have insulted you, but when I saw you earlier, your mother's eyes gave you away and I know what you want.”

“Enlighten me,” smirking Matthew leans back in his chair, his daemon stretches out in front of his desk and watches curiously the woman, who slowly gets back onto her feet.

“I want to get straight to the point,” Caroline says, opening the blouse for Matthew more, “I'd love to fuck you to tease my brothers, so where do we want to do it, right on the table or on the couch?”

"Caroline, do it yourself in the toilet,” Matthew mocks with a smirk. 

“Matt, come on,” Caroline begs with a pout, showing the black bra, she wore, “don't be shy, I don't bite.”

“No chance,” Matthew chuckles and gets up from his chair. He walks past the woman and opens the door. “So, if there's nothing else you want from me, my dear, I'm busy."

"Very well,” Caroline signs, closing the blouse. “I can put my marriage plans aside!" 

She shakes her ponytail once more and walks to the door. Her daemon, a pine martin, was already standing in the hallway when she stops beside Matthew.

Out of nowhere she kissed him passionately and to her astonishment Matthew wraps his big arms around the girl and return her kiss.

"You are very direct, Caroline." Matthew notes with a tongue snap. "I think, I have doubts, why don't we discuss this subject now over a glass of wine?”

“I am very happy to accept this invitation,” she replies and is pulled back into study.


	20. Chapter 20

Marisa was sitting together with her father in his study on the third floor of the house. Both were currently in the middle of tough business negotiations.

Marisa tried to persuade her father to hire Lyra’s paternal uncle, Harry Belacqua, as a lawyer for the Delamare Corporation, but John, always concerned about the welfare of his company, which is the biggest and most powerful one in the whole of the British empire, refused to hire an "enemy.”

"Give me a good reason, pumpkin!" John said, sharpening his pencil. 

"I've already told you everything, father,” 

Marisa moves her hand to her forehead and, with gentle movements, massages the annoying pain, which plagued her all day out of her body. It is such a relieving feeling that Marisa forgets just for a moment that she was still arguing with her father.

“Marisa …” John signs, “all of your arguments didn't convince me. I cannot do what you want from me.”

John lowers his gaze; he checks once more the tip of the pencil before he slips it into one of the drawers of his wooden desk and pulls out a new pencil to sharpen. He did it with so much precision as he normally negotiated business and that was what drove Marisa to the edge of madness. 

She jumps back onto her feet and walks with long steps to the desk, where she encompasses her father’s hands, takes the sharpener out of it, and throws it away in anger.

“Father, stop your games, we're having a business talk here!”

“Let it be said to you, my beloved little pumpkin, you act like a little child.” John said with a chuckle and takes out of his drawer a new sharpener. "Would you be so nice and tell me everything all over again? I am old and no longer have the best ears, maybe I change my mind too.”

“As you wish, father!” 

Still annoyed, Marisa walks back to her chair and takes a seat again. She crosses her legs, adjusts her skirt, and begins to explain once again in detail Harry's special abilities in the field of his work.

Her father listens to everything with pricked ears, while he wrote down some notes on one of the countless papers in front of him. Besides, of course, he already knows that it was a risk to hire Harry, but as Asriel had predicted, it would be beneficial to the Delamare Corporation.

The Magisterium still had strong connections with the company. Lawsuits were often filed against certain branches of the company too, which Harry Belacqua could easily get out of the way for good. Marisa makes this very fact clear to him a few times, but John is still skeptical.

"My darling, I promise you that I will think about it, but I won't decide this matter now!”

"Papa…” Marisa sighs, she leans the upper body forward in her chair and claps her hands together. “There is nothing left to think about! I have told you everything, twice, but now my patience is at the end! I'll do the deal myself with your two business partners!!”

"You want to make a deal?" John asked, laughing very amused. "But, Marisa, I want to remind you that you're not with the company, but..."

"But what father?" Marisa asked confused. 

Oz made a suspicious sound and whispered something into Marisa's ear, who growls in agreement. She in turn whispers a few words to him too, before Oz whispers the next words into her ear, but this time Marisa looks after the last word that was whispered angry to her father.

“Don't let it be what I'm thinking!”

Athena, stretched out next to the radiator, begins to purr, a chuckling and mocking purr. She turns her head to John, reading his thoughts and silently exchanging a few words with him until John nods and Athena looks with a smirk to Marisa.

"Isa," said the lioness, "why don't you say it out loud."

"That I should integrate the Oblations Board into the company, as my beloved father always wanted?" Marisa shakes her head with a devilish grin. "There's no fucking way this is going to happen."

"Unteachable … like her mother.” 

Athena lowers her big head again and closes her eyes. Her ears, however, remained active and heard every other word of the extended and very heated conversation between father and daughter, but suddenly within a moment Marisa falls silent. 

She feels herself so exhausted and tired from the last weeks. She was sick of the arguments too and was deep inside, hidden from her family, very insecure and hurt. Several crying attacks, which she had successfully hide from her family, had left a mark on the young mother.

Her heart was racing all the time as her father kept rejecting the proposal as before. 

It was suddenly a blessing for Marisa, when the two business partners, Benedict Sheppard, and Archangel Michael, appearing in his human identity, unexpectedly entered the room and took a seat on the couch to the right of Marisa.

Michael continued now to observes the conversation between the two Delamares and was visibly amused by the human behavior. He was sure that the wicked witch named Hera was watching from her marble balcony on Mount Olympus. Maybe, she had her hands in the game and heated up the feelings of the two Delamares, which she did with Hercules before, therefore, he decided that it was time to intervene.

"If I may interrupt, Fox," said Michael meekly. "I would like to take a look at the documents.”

"That won't be a problem, Lord Morgan," Marisa said. 

She holds out her left hand and her daemon storms off, climbs onto the desk, grabs the files, and returns to Marisa, who takes the files from him and passes them over to the tall blond archangel, who together with Benedict Sheppard, begins to read the files. 

At the same time, Marisa, speaking with an angelic voice, tries to arouse sympathy for Harry Belacqua in both. She also explains, as she did with her father, the advantages for the company in detail.

Both men, like John, were overly impressed by the knowledge of the young mother, who did everything to achieve her goal, and that only encouraged them to persuade the young woman to join the company as a full-time business partner. Marisa could be a kind of liaison officer between the Magisterium and the company.

The advantages for all three men were obvious. but they knew that Marisa would still refuse a conversation of this kind now, so all three left for the time being the subject under the table and continued the negotiations about Harry Belacqua.

"Lady Delamare, you will surely understand that we can’t decide now,” said Mr. Sheppard, clasping his hands together “I will promise that we will specifically discuss this matter as soon as we can.

“As soon as we can is not enough,” Marisa said sickly sweet, giving a gloomy look. “I need a decision in the next two days!”

“Marisa …”

“Lord Morgan … Sir?”

“I promise that I will discuss this topic tomorrow with my two partners at the latest,” Michael explained, giving John a short persuasive look. “There are no important business matters ahead of us to stop us.”

“I would really appreciate that, and I think my father would agree to this decision too, right pa?”

“I still have a very important business meeting ahead of me in the next hours, but tomorrow morning would be okay.”

One after the other, the other two business partners respond with a nod in agreement, the first meeting for tomorrow was fixed on the timetable, but again the tall blonde angel took the floor.

"If I could allow myself to speak my humble opinion now," Michael spoke calmly, "Fox ... Benedict ... I could well imagine hiring Count Belacqua."

"I still have my doubts, Michael," John growls, giving his daughter a look that only she understands. "But I am sure we will come to a decision that is best for both parties, Lady Delamare.”

"How kind of you, father.”

Smirking, Marisa rises from her chair. She saunters slowly to her father’s desk, walks with a hand that slides across it, behind it and stops in front of her still sitting father.

Both watch each other, both look at each other with an unemotional, not very affectionate look until suddenly Marisa's mouth begins to twist into a smile. She puts her hands on the armrests and leaned her upper body forward, so that they were now remarkably close.

"If you don't agree, papa,” Marisa whispers, coming with her mouth near to his ear, “I will tear you apart with the greatest pleasure!” 

“I'm looking forward to it, daughter.” 

John rises from his chair. His body unfolds to full size and Marisa must lift her head to look at her father with her blue eyes. She sees a mischievous grin and a face that looks rested, after six years of anger.

The separation from Lyra also left its mark on the grandfather himself, but the wounds begin to heal, even as he puts his big arms around Marisa and kisses her on the forehead.

“Lyra will be waiting for you, so go now!”

“Thanks, papa.”

Marisa pulls back her arms, which were around her father’s body, and leaves the room, feeling uncomfortable and restless too after the meeting.

* * *

* * *

It was shortly before 6 p.m. on this day when Marisa retires to her study, together with the freshly bathed Lyra. Both would spend some more time together, playing a game together for example, before Lyra would go to bed to end the day.

But suddenly an unexpected visitor entered the room … Stella. 

She was or looked grumpy when she walks without a word to the couch and lets herself fall on it with a satisfied moan. Then she slips out of her high heeled shoes and lies down to stretch out her weak limbs.

Lyra quickly noticed how small her grandmother was, she always looked bigger and more impressive when she wore high heeled shoes, even sometimes scary, but when she lay on the couch, she looked peaceful, which only encouraged Lyra to gently detach herself from her mother and to walk over to the couch to her comfortable lying and beloved nana.

Chuckling softly, Lyra reaches out her hands moments later and lets it tenderly slide over her grandmother’s soft face. Grandma and mother cannot compare a smile as they watch the girl silently as she carried out her occupation with the greatest care.

“Lyra … Grandma’s hair,” Marisa calls out softly.

Smirking, Lyra nods, she glides with her hands over the cheek, across the forehead until she had her hands at the roots of the long blond hair of her grandmother and could let a hand run tenderly through it.

“Please, don't stop, Nana needs that now!” Stella said with a satisfied moan.

She lifts her upper body, looking Marisa just for a moment in the eye before she lets her head fall onto the soft pillow on Lyra’s lap. Stella’s grin grows bigger as she looks at Lyra, both giving each other amused looks as both communicate wordlessly like Marisa did with Lyra at Jordan College.

“Be tender, my love,” Stella whispers, clasping her hands on her stomach. “Don't imitate your grandfather!”

“I promise!”

Humming, Stella closes her eyes. She feels how Lyra brings back her hands to her hair roots, she feels too how Lyra brings her other hand to the two clasped hands. Then the girls begin to massage, slowly sliding with her hands through the hair.

"Ma, why are you here?” Marisa asked after a couple of minutes of pure silence.

"I just want to forget everything,” Stella answered. “My brain is a little overwhelmed right now. I just want to spend some time with my adorable Lyra Louisa."

"Me too! May I tell you something?"

"Anything you want, honey," Stella replied in a waning voice.

Slowly she begins to close her eyes as Lyra intensives and softens her movements to bring the body of her grandmother to rest. But the rest that had been gained did not last exceptionally long when Marisa drops a bomb.

"I need some time out, mommy!” 

Smirking and incredibly pleased about the knowledge Stella prick up her ears. Her shiny blue eyes are opening once again and begin to sparkle as she looks at Marisa.

"I want to go to on vacation …. I was thinking of a famous place called Rye, where, as you already know, my sister is still living.

"Mommy ….”

Sighing, Marisa takes a sip of wine, she rises soon afterwards to her feet and strolls with short steps over to the couch and takes a seat near her mother’s stockinged feet, which she places on her lap and starts to massage with her fingers, like a child.

"Lyra, always remember,” Stella says with a chuckle, “whenever your mama has to relieve something, just hold out your feet to her!”

“Mother!” 

Angrily Marisa pushes the feet from her lap, she crosses her legs and crosses her arms as she looks away to her desk, showing Stella that she was very depressed or very annoyed. But that did not stop Stella from getting closer to Marisa as she gently slides across the couch and puts her arms around her daughter's body.

"Come on Marisa, I see that you are very exhausted, and you need a time out,” Stella said, beginning to rock slowly. “Mama can give you what you want, my love.

"Mommy … It has to be planned,” Marisa growls annoyed. “I can't do it now! Lyra must study, and I have still a lot of work to do … Mommy …. I'm a full-time momma with a particularly important job!”

"And I know that, of course,” Stella replied, kissing Marisa’s neck. “But beside all the work you have to rest, or you will break down just like your brother.

“I am not my bro ….

“Shhhhhhh,” Stella whispers, “Lovely Marisa, look … I just want to spend some time with you! Please, grand an old woman this wish. You won't regret it either, I promise.”

"All right! … So, what do you think? Marisa asked her daughter. "Can you get by without your papa for a week?”

"Yes, l… let us … go … on v…. vaca… vacation!" 

Lyra jumps to the floor; she rushes over to her mother and jumps on her mother’s lap to give her a big hug. 

“Isa, meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes," Stella said before she vanishes with a hidden and satisfied smile on her face.

Marisa, unaware of this, cuddles a little more with Lyra on the couch and showers her with more loving kisses before she gets up and walks hand in hand with Lyra to her own bedroom.

"Suitcase ... under my bed, honey!" 

Lyra nods, she reaches with her little hands under the bed, and pulls out her mother's big suitcase, which she first drags closer to the bed before she puts it with effort on the bed.

Marisa, proud of Lyra, opens the suitcase and begins to place a couple of skirts, pants, blouses, and sweaters in the suitcase along with underwear, several pairs of socks, stockings, and tights. A few pairs of shoes were placed by Marisa on the top, but suddenly …

"Marisa, what are you doing?" asked Lord Asriel. 

"I am going on vacation with Lyra." Marisa answered and closes the suitcase. "We'll be gone for a week, you don't have to worry, honey. Everything is under my control.”

"Is that so?! Marisa, why am I not asked?” 

Lord Asriel approaches his soon to be wife and looks at her very gloomy with his hands in his pockets. His face and his daemon show to Marisa that he was not very amused. 

"I am Lyra's father; I say that she is staying here with me."

"Papa please..."

Lyra steps before her mother and holds her hands up. She begins to caress his arms, but soon he pushes the girl away. 

"You keep your mouth shut!" 

Stelmaria roars and Lyra, scared as never before, immediately takes a few steps back to hid behind her mother, who clenches her fists in anger as Oz jumps to her side.

“Don't you dare to yell at our daughter!” Marisa shouted.

"I'm her father, I have every right to do it!" He shouted back, "I'm pretty sure that your innocent and very caring mother is the cause of this very strange event."

“Of course, she is responsible! She realized that I cannot do this anymore, I am at the End of my strength, because I spend all the weeks to nurse my wonderful daughter back to health, while you just think about your research, you arrogant stubborn monkey!

“Marisa … please … If I …”

“Shut the fuck up!” Marisa yells with tears in her eyes. 

She takes Lyra’s hands and leds her out of the room, giving the suitcase to the girl too before she sends her to the nursery and closes the door on which she lets her head rest soon afterwards. 

Marisa pauses, she lifts her hands and wipes the tears from her face with a sob that only Oz could hear. Then she turned, her face red with anger. She marched with quick steps to Asriel who was immediately faced with a blow with the palm of Marisa’s hand, while Stelmaria is confronted with a blow from Oz.

“If you ever dare to scare my daughter again or reprimand her without my consent, then this blow will be pure paradise. I will not tolerate your antics anymore as your soon to be wife. Thorold warned you, but you did not want to hear so I put the gun to your chest. Either you accept my will and accept that I need a fucking break, or you can pack your bags and leave this goddamn house with your goddam family because Lyra and I don’t want to see you again!”

Asriel falls silent immediately, shocked. His hands where shaking and his eyes so big with fear Marisa had seldom seen it. The golden monkey, standing beside Marisa, had seldom seen that Stelmaria, always fearless, steps back as he takes just a little step forward. 

Both had scared Asriel & Stelmaria as much as they had never done in their entire lives and Lord Asriel had already faced many people, but not a Marisa Coulter, who, driven by the love of her child, grew beyond herself and made Asriel look like a little schoolboy.

"I understood, dearest," Asriel said meekly. "Take as much time as you need and please, don't forget to call me every evening …. Nonsense, you can call me whenever you want at any time.”

"Don't worry about that!” Marisa mocks, "the most important thing is that our daughter can get some rest after her illness."

"She could do that with both of us.” Asriel whispers back.

He steps on the spot, not daring to look at his fiancé, who takes out her handbag out of the closed, which she closes with a bang that fires another shock through Asriel’s body.

"Lyra could do that,” Marisa said, approaching Asriel “but she prefers to do that with mama and only with mama. She does not need you now and you know that. Maybe you use the time I will give you to think about something and now you will apologize to our baby.”

Marisa held out her finger and Asriel started moving. He stepped out of the room followed by Marisa and walked the short way back to the children's room where Lyra was sitting on her bed, currently comforted by Grandpa Robert.

“Pa, would give us a minute?” Asriel asked.

Roberts nods silently in agreement and shifts his gaze back to Lyra.

“Louisa, don't be so strict with him, I beg you, papa tries only his best.”

With a kiss on the nose and a soft pat on the shoulder Robert rises back to his feet and takes the packet suitcase with him as Asriel enters the room and closes the door with a soft click.

“I’m sorry Lyra,” Asriel speaks softly, turning around to face Lyra. “I didn't mean to hurt you or your mother with my words. I’ve just lost control and let my feelings run free.”

“A…. any.… anyth... anything e…. else?” 

“I would like to make amends for that,” Asriel replies, taking a seat next to Lyra on the bed. 

“How?” Lyra asked with a growl.

“I give you the freedom to choose anything you want.” Asriel said, placing an arm around Lyra. “You just have to tell me, and I'll make it happen together with mommy.”

“I w… wish t…. th… that … you l…. l.… lo... love m…. mom… mommy,” Lyra mumbles, playing nervously with her fingers.

“I will do my best,” Asriel replies, tenderly hugging his child and placing a kiss on her forehead. “But have you another wish? Toys? … A pony? … A day with me at my lab in London?”

“Just be my father, like you did in the north.”

Asriel nods, placing a loving kiss on Lyras forehead, but Lyra remains unemotionally. She loses her father’s arms from her shoulder and jumps from the bed, then she rushes out of the room without a proper goodbye to her own father.


	21. Madness

"Marisa, wake up!” Stella said.

She turns the car key and turns off at the same time the engine of the BMW. She grabs the seat belt with her left hand and loosens it, while she shakes with the other hand Marisa, who slowly begins to move in the passenger seat. 

During the entire two-hour drive from Oxford to the seaside town of Rye, in the east of Brytain, she had soundly slept just like Lyra, who was still sleeping in her child seat in the back of the car.

Her cuddly toy, Molly, had Lyra pressed tightly to her chest, while Pan was curled up on her lap. Neither Lyra nor Pan noticed moments later how one of the two front doors were opened, and Stella got out of the car.

As soon as she was back on her feet, she stretched her legs and arms out as best she could. She could not help herself, but to yawn as she grabbed her gray trench coat and put it on. 

A strong wind was blowing that was messing up Stella's hair, but strangely enough, the scent the wind brought with it was familiar. It triggered a feeling that Stella had rarely felt. She finally felt at home and completely safe in a place she knew.

Marisa, who was now awake, loosened her seat belt and got out of the car herself. She stretches out her legs and yawns like she had not done for a long time. She lets her hands slide through her long brown hair, finally feeling the same as her mother, finally being at home.

“Ma, wasn't the house bigger?” Marisa asked, putting on her cream-colored trench coat.

“When you were younger, my love,” Stella chuckles, closing the door. “Where has the time gone? 

"It just passed too quickly, Mom," Marisa sighs. 

She closes the door with a click and shakes her booted legs again before she walks to the back of the car and opens Lyra's door. The girl was still asleep, but slowly, as her mother leaned the upper body into the BMW, she woke up and moved in the child seat. A little kiss by Marisa finally made her wake up completely.

She yawned as loudly as her father. She rubbed the sleeping sand out of her eyes and opened her brown eyes completely. It was already dark, but her grandma, who was unloading the suitcases, and her mother, who leaned over her and loosened the seat belt, were very clearly visible.

"Did you sleep well?" Marisa lifts Lyra out of the car and smooths the black pants, Lyra wore.

"A little," Lyra replied, turning around. "Grandma drove too fast!"

"Not at all," 

Stella closed the trunk of the car. She walks up to mother and daughter and first hands a suitcase to Marisa, then Lyra got her small, rollable children's suitcase. 

"My little star,” Stella chuckles, “I drove at a decent and comfortable travel pace."

"Woman, you raced like a madman!"

“Come on, child … go ahead and cry,” mocked Stella, sticking out the tongue.

Lyra was quite disgusted with. Hastily, she pulls out, with shaking hands, the telescopic handle, clicked it into place, and raced away with Pan. She walks away at such a fast pace that she reached the door first and had to wait for her mother and grandmother.

Both took their time and kept an eye on Lyra, who meanwhile had crossed her arms petulantly in front of the door. Her face became more and more malicious the closer Stella got. When they both faced each other again, they looked each other in the eye.

“Put on your poker face!”

Lyra screwed up her eyes and growled like her daemon in the direction of her grandma, who leaned forward to her grandchild, but quickly they both started to gaggle and giggle. Lyra in particular imitated her aunt Margaret, who had a particularly childlike chuckle, which she often showed and made Marisa laugh with it, but her mood had already changed.

She took Lyra by the hand and looked down at her feet while her mother stepped forward and rang the bell, which brings Lady Rebecca Wilson out of her concentration. She gets up from her desk, ties her robe and makes her way down the hall, down the stairs, across the living room to the door.

She unlocks the two locks, puts the key in the hole, turns it and opens the door.

“My dearest Smurf is here!” 

Loud screaming and totally freaking out she steps hastily out of the house and take her sister into a hug the greatest pleasure.

"Nice to see you too, Becca, it’s been too long since I last have seen you.”

“I was too busy,” Becca explains with a kiss on the nose, “Oliver and the many rabbits needed my attention and there was no time for us remaining. I’m so sorry, Stelly Bear.”

“Don’t blame yourself, I was busy too … I am still busy, but now I am on vacation. I am here to spend some time with you, crumbs!”

Both sisters begin to laugh like children, they rock back and forth, and Lyra did not recognize her Nana. She looked so happy, so changed in the presence of her younger sister from whom Lyra had heard so many stories at her sick bed, much was also said about her beauty.

In contrast to her sister, she had long brown hair and blue eyes, which sometimes increased her arrogance. She also tended to often want to correct someone, which sometimes made her a little unpopular with many, but can you not like a woman who has a preference for polka-dot blouses?

No, thought Marisa, because that was the best thing about her aunt, and she loved her aunt so much that she began to cry terribly as soon as she found herself in Becca’s soft arms.

She was crying and she was sobbing, and Becca could do nothing more than to whisper words of comfort, while she gave her sister a knowing look. She also suspected that Asriel was responsible for the fact that Marisa was in a more or less mentally unstable state, which could make Marisa collapse at any time, just like at this moment, but a little hug from Sleepy Lyra put her mother at ease for the time being.

“Now come in Marisa, sit down in front of the fireplace and relax yourself. We'll take care of Lyra,” said her aunt.

With a sad nod, Marisa obeyed. She wiped her tears away, took her daemon's hand and entered the warmed house, which seemed a little bigger than it used to be and was as old-fashioned as the house of her grandmother Elisabeth Delamare, who lived in a rural suburb of Cardiff.

A large kitchen, a large living room with a bathroom on both floors of the house. There were also a number of guest rooms and a large garden with a large stable, where the rabbits, which Becca bred, had found their home.

By and large, the house was built like a scaled down version of Delamare Manor, except that the apartments weren't there, which Marisa considered a good thing. She had never been a fan of it, and she liked her mother's old house more than the new one. It was more family-friendly, just like Becca's house. 

After her little tour through the house, Marisa took off her trench coat, slipped off the black boots, which she liked almost as much as the brown ones, and walked into the living room, where she grabbed one of the many fur blankets along with a glass of red wine, which she placed first in front of her. 

Then she took off her skirt, wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and for the first time she had time to think about her current situation with Lord Asriel.

The arguments she had with him, which were very violently had thrown the young mother completely off course. 

Marisa was of course disappointed, especially because on one hand she is fighting against her father for Asriel's brother to get a job in the Delamare family company and on the other Asriel himself had just lied to her about his still living family members.

Marisa said to herself how ironic it was that Asriel was the liar. She had kept nothing secret from him, absolutely nothing about her dream of Athena, about her family situation, or about her worries about Lyra. It was truly a shame, she herself could not have done it better. The only thing she knows to do now was to laugh uncontrollably about her situation until she bursts into tears again.

All of her feelings that she could hide for now came out of her stash and left deep traces on the young mother. She tried to numb it with alcohol, but it only brought her even more to the edge of madness, which was of course felt too by her daemon.

Oz storms to her side and touches her beautiful face, which was marked with sadness. Marisa, in turn, puts her hand on his little head, caressing his golden fur, which feels so warm and yet so soft. It gave her some comfort, but her throbbing and painful heart did not come to rest. It increased the pace and completely disordered Marisa's thoughts. 

She starts to tremble and to lose the last remaining bit of her astonishing self-control. Her mother, who is still with her sister, quickly notices that Marisa simply cannot control herself anymore and steps, after a quick walk through the house, to her side to look down at her with her big blue eyes. 

Her hand rises moments later and begins to run through Marisa's hair, again and again from front to back to comb it.

"It's all right, my little star!" Stella gets on her knees behind Marisa's back and puts her delicate arms around her daughter. "Mama is here … I am by your side," she whispers into Marisa’s ear as she slowly begins to kiss her neck.

In turn, Marisa begins to cry even more. She howls and she clings to her mother for comfort, like a little six-year-old girl, who has just injured herself. The only difference is that Marisa is trying once more to get alcohol to forget the pain, but Napoleon, her mother's daemon, prevents it. 

He takes the glass in his human-like hands and hands it to Stella, who places it safely back on the table before she begins to rock Marisa rhythmically to a little melody.

The tears that Marisa had in her eyes disappeared and the sobs she made fall silent as she laid her head on her mother's breast, where Marisa has always felt herself safest, even as a child it was her favorite activity to be in her mother's arms to simply forget all her worries that she was carrying with her, but today Stella had something else in mind for her child.

She lowered her head onto Marisa's shoulder and moved her mouth, which slowly began to whisper, to Marisa's ear. What Stella said or could have been said to the hurt and confused Marisa comes entirely from your imagination, but be sure that Stella whispered thoughts of hatred, which had only one purpose: to incite Marisa and to confuse her even more, that she gave herself up to the manipulative and malicious words of her mother. 

But Marisa was strong and tried to fight against the voice in her ear, but the resistance she could offer was extraordinarily little and it faded from second to second, but suddenly the words stopped when Becca entered the living room with the sleeping Lyra in her arms.

Stella got up immediately and steps up to her sister, while Marisa herself remained on the floor, sitting on her bottom, all alone in front of the fireplace. She had no peace, she was lonely and forgotten as her gaze keeps shifting to Lyra, who, with Molly in her arms, switched into her grandmother's arms.

Stella held her so tightly and yet so lightly that Lyra did not notice the change and was still asleep when Stella sat down on the couch with her and held her like a baby in her arms, while Marisa watched helplessly, hugging her stockinged legs.

"Do you want her?" Stella asked without looking at Marisa. She crosses her legs and begins to rock the child as she continues to mock Marisa with her actions.

"I want her, mommy, please," Marisa begged.

She holds her arms open in the direction of her mother, who slowly raised her beautiful face and smiled at Marisa with a broad grin. But she stayed where she was and continued to rock Lyra for the next few minutes, while Marisa became more and more impatient and more and more eaten away by the returning tears, which robbed her self-confidence and brought her to the ground, where she curled up and howled like a baby.

But soon Stella had a sudden fit of pity and was forced by her feelings to get up. She walks over and helps Marisa back onto her feet. She readjusted the blanked around the weak body, before she reaches for Marisa's hand and leds her to the couch, where she lets the young mother sit down.

Little Lyra was then gently lifted by Stella and placed on her mother's lap, under the blanket, where she nestled closer to Marisa with Molly in her safe arms. When the blanket was finally closed around the now lying Marisa, Lyra was almost vanished under the blanket.

"You know it is true,” Stella said, spreading another blanket over Marisa, “You can no longer deny the truth, my darling."

With a devilish grin on her face, Stella took the glass of wine and left a frightened Marisa in the living room. She strolled out onto the terrace to see her sister with a good book in hand and the clear goal that she would have to break Marisa completely.


	22. Stella Delamare - A His Dark Materials Story - Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a kind of preparation for what might happen in the next chapters. It is a backround story for Stella that is told by herself ... so started from childhood until we reach the present point in time.
> 
> The next chapter then closes the story and introduces the following chapter.
> 
> This chapter should also provide a little understanding of the bad bitch of the story
> 
> But be careful ... I draw your attention to my choice of words. It is and remains fiction, even also the statements that Stella makes about God. I don't want to hurt anyone in any way
> 
> You have been warned!!

I'm lying-in bed, It's already early in the morning and the morning sun is slowly but surely rising behind the dense trees of the nearby forest and shines so bright into my sleeping face, that I am forced to open my shiny blue eyes. Sleepily, I grab the covers with my left hand and turn my body on the bed. Then I lower my head on the soft pillow with a sigh and snuggle back into my warm and cozy covers. 

Sleep ... I want to sleep so much, but I know, deep inside my heart that I have to break Marisa … I have to break my little pumpkin, today. The pure thought of it doesn't let me sleep, so I open my blue eyes and orient myself on the bed. My daemon, Napoleon, the big, handsome chimpanzee, and my best friend too lies at my feet in tights. I can feel how he hugs it, how he clings to it with his hairy and warm hands to be close to me. 

I am sure that he wants me to sit up on the bed, to pull him carefully under my warm covers to cuddle with him, but my little animal friend, today, you have to stay where you are, because I have my beloved and tender six-year-old grandchild, Lyra Louisa, with me. She lies soundly asleep, wrapped in another fur blanket, beside me, under my warm covers. I hear how she breathes softly. I see how she moves in sleep when I touch her reddish face with my tender fingers and I myself can only look at my grandchild in Love. 

Soon, I recognize, that everything about her comes from me. The hair, the eyes, the mouth, the snub nose ... just everything, which defines Lyra Louisa belongs to me. It’s almost magical and attracts me to his little baby so much, that I lower my face, pursing my lips and kiss Lyra, as always, on her tender and slightly damp lips. 

I see with my blue eyes how she moans contentedly in deep sleep. She mumbles my name, and she moves, moments later, her body further towards me to presents to me her soft sleeping face. I myself gladly accept this invitation and kiss my baby on her reddish cheeks, on her shiny snub nose and on her warm forehead. Soon, I encompass her delicate, still weak body, and lift Louisa slowly and with the greatest care with a long kiss on her mouth on my lap.

As soon as she is in my arms like a baby, I keep kissing. I cannot resist my desire and give myself completely to my love for this child, which slowly begins to move in my rocking arms. She stretches out her legs, which are wearing one of my expensive tights. She yawns as loudly as my stupid old bear named Husband, and she tries to make herself as big as she can until she sinks into my arms and becomes still. 

She opens her eyes and looks into my sleepy face. She raises her hands and touches my sleepy face. She caresses it so tenderly and with such love that I close my eyes and pull the girl to me. My hands, tighten around her body. It presses the girl so softly against me, that I can smell the scent of Lyra’s hair in my nose ... roses ... a sweet-smelling aroma of roses.

I can't get enough of this, so my hands are beginning to move. The left one is supporting Lyra and with the right one I touch her cheek. I am pressing it with my fingers, whose long sharp nails are painted red, against my breast, then I lower my nose into the sweet-smelling hair of my granddaughter. 

“Louisa … don’t wash your hair … please.”

“Mo… mommy w… w… will n… not …. be am… amu… amused!”

“I don’t care, love … Your mine … You’re my cute child,” I whisper back and massage with my thumb so tenderly that Lyra agrees without thing to much. She nestles closer to my breast and hugs me. She hugs me tenderly that I can feel the love she gives me. To show my love I begin to rock my child. I am kissing it on the mouth like a lover would do, but I don’t care. Lyra is my child, and I am the only Mommy she has ever had .. I have a right to kiss my baby in the way I want. And Lyra likes it.

She chuckles and kisses me back. She smirks like a cutie pie and pushes me on the bed. She’s now lying on top off, looking in my eyes and I say: “close your eyes … Mommy does the rest.” I bring my hands under her axes and lift my child so close that my nose is sniffing again on Lyra’s hair. My Hands begin to massage, and my nose begins to sniff the scent of my child, which makes me close my eyes again.

My thoughts collect and organize, and I begin to remember, influenced by the scent, my previous life, a life that I personally hate, because it is characterized by violence and it is accompanied by various feelings and passionate sex. It is like a fictional biography novel written for adults and told by me without any inhibitions.

* * *

Part 1 – Setting Sun

* * *

The earliest memory I have of my life so far sends me back home … I was still a child, a very naughty toddler and only three years old. I was sitting next to my adorable mother on a wooden bench in our garden, in front of our house, in my birthplace, Belfast. 

It was summer. The colorful flowers around me were blooming and a warm and fragrant wind was blowing, which completely disfigured my long and curly brownish hair. But my mother snaps the finger, and everything was magically corrected to the state it was, before I left the house half an hour ago. So, I ask my mother with a chuckle, if she is a goddess, an immortal woman with extraordinary abilities.

But …. She did not answer me, instead, she gets up from the wooden bench. She massages my soft hair with her delicate fingers, whose nails are painted roses red. And I myself lower, silently, my smirking little head in turn and enjoy the affection my mommy gives me.

"Stella, my shining star," Mommy mumbles softly, touching my kin and giving me a kiss on the forehead. Seconds later, a large, scented, and reddish lip print remains on my forehead. I myself have to chuckle again. I lift my smirking face and look into the soft and beautiful face of my smirking mother.

The brown eyes, which my granddaughter will inherit later, sparkle at me. The long blond hair, my mother possess and prefers to wear open is longer than my own hair and shines corn golden in the bright light of the warm summer sun. The green dress, she wears today, is almost a unit with the juicy green grass on which she stands with her black Mary Jane pumps. The braided flower crown, which she wears on her head, is placed, moments later, on my own head by my mother with her delicate fingers.

It's like a fucking crowning glory …. I feel like the fucking queen of the fucking world, which will, unfortunately, be a pile of ashes if I don't do my job. The task of my life, but what it will be exactly I will only find out later, she gives me to understand with her soft voice and takes me in her strong arms. 

She smooches me on the mouth until I blush with love. “Mommy …” I am breaking out in a chuckle again, like a cutie pie.

“Don’t be shy, my shining star,” Mommy smirks, giving me another kissy on my mouth. She rocks me gently back and forth, sings a foreign language song for me that makes me to nestle closer to her soft motherly breast, but our togetherness is interrupted, when suddenly my father comes running out of the big brown wooden house. 

He's bearded like a tall and powerful lumberjack and dressed like a filthy and devious East Belfast politician. All the dam money he brings home with hard work, hangs out off his pockets. And he just throws it around without thinking too much, despite the warnings from my old and sick grandmother Patricia “Patty” Wilson.

You know …. with all the dam money and the happy whims of my father, I myself get everything from him what I want, whether it's a toy or a big funfair carousel for myself. He just puts it in my lovable little ass with the greatest pleasure. I only need to lift my index finger and my proud father, Patrick Wilson, makes it possible for his adorable and enchanting little princess. 

My meek mother, who wants to raise me and my sister to be a kind lady, was never enthusiastic about it. She tries to teach to me and my sister, that a lady can be satisfied with little, but I, a spoiled little brat, mocked her for it because I just want to live a life in luxury. I want to buy the world for myself and I want that I stand above all ... I am completely like my father. 

I love but I don't appreciate my mother, but I will have to learn it, because what she tells me now will break my heart.

"Stella …. Mary-Ann, listen to me carefully! .. Mommy …. Mommy has to go!" She tells me, explaining that her younger brother, whom I only briefly saw once, made it clear to her that the kind of woman she is, is not intended for raising children. But my father doesn't want to accept that. He quickly buys a house, a whole estate in Geneva, the capital of the almighty Magisterium, by phone call. 

In tears, he tells then my mother that we will move, that everything would be fine if she only stayed with us. But my mother, very composed with her feelings, makes it clear to the love of her life that she cannot and does not want to come with us. She must leave us before a disaster happens, because she knows her brother and her younger sister all too well.

“Fine, honey … Go … Just Go … But please … don’t forget us.” My father agrees, is disappointed to see, as with anything in the world, she is right. Unlike me, he knows what she really is. He knows the little secret, which she is trying to hide from me, and he swears on this day, in my presence, that he will never tell me. 

Then mom is almost ready to go. She gives first my father a kiss on the cheek, then she takes me one last time into her strong arms. She sniffs on my hair, then she lowers her lips and gives me with the biggest love she has in store the last kiss on my mouth for a long time. 

She says a few words of comfort to me and my father, before she places me, crying and dam loud screaming, in my father’s arms and disappears into the light of the golden setting sun. She leaves me …. her own fresh and blood, lonely and embittered … I will never get over it, I'm sure of that, but my daddy makes it clear to me, when I am lying in my bed on this day, that life goes on, but my father himself has to contend with my mother's fate. 

That's why he gets to know countless beautiful young women. He tries to forget my beloved mother with unrestrained sex, but it will never be enough. The huge amount of alcohol, which he consumes during work, doesn't improve his fucked-up situation, but then during a fancy Magisterium organized gala, he meets a very special woman, Grace Gibson, an eighteen-year-old, very attractive English woman with a red fox as a daemon.

* * *

Part 2 - Grace

* * *

Grace, my adorable stepmother, is the opposite of my own beloved mother. She possesses long curly jet-black hair, and her eyes are as storm gray as the eyes of Lyra's nanny, the adorable Sophia Sabrina Mia Hayward.

Grace is also very charming like the devil, and fashionable than my own mother ever was or could be, but most of all, she is extremely dominant over my own father. Both have so many opposites that clash without protection during our everyday life, but over the months, an indestructible love develops between the dominant Grace and my meek and lovable father, when Grace actually manages with a lot of good sex, compassion, a little patience, and tenderness to help my father over my own mother. 

A little later, when I am five and a few weeks old, both get married in a dreamlike ceremony in Geneva, Grace, who is tender twenty years old at the time, also helps me and my almost two-year younger sister Rebecca with patience and a lot of maternal love, over the deep grief over the loss of our mother. Just for me she becomes more than a stepmother, she becomes my only real mommy in my whole life, and she is the educator who will shape me into what I am now. 

She was the attractive woman, who showed me how to seduce men. She was the understanding woman, who sat by my side and hold me when I cried after I argued heavily with my father. And she was the very kind woman, who bought me, on my thirteenth birthday, my first pair of garter stockings. She was also the woman, who encouraged to wear skirts, blouses, and stockings at the age of thirteen and to use them to my advantage … 

She was just everything my mother should be and for that I am, even if I don't show it, grateful, but I'm not grateful for beating me up during the three-year tuition she gave me. She not only beat me, she also humiliated me to toughen me up, like she was, even my daemon, Napoleon, who at this point took on the shape of a chimpanzee, was not safe from her or her nameless, wicked, and cruel daemon. 

Napo, that's what I always called Napoleon, was just like me beaten up by him. He often found himself on the floor next to me, both of us screaming in pain, until Grace had a fit of tenderness and I was allowed to crawl into “Mommy’s open arms, where she comforted me. She whispered and she sung for me like an angel until I fall asleep. Then Grace picked me up and brought me into her bed. 

I developed, during this time, a kind of hatred for her, but my feelings and my love for Grace made me forget what she did to me over the years and my own children had to sense almost the same in the same cruel way, as I will explain later but we continue ... 

After tuition with Grace, I was almost ready to step by my father's side, to make career in the church, but for that I have to live a little lie. So, please forgive me almighty Hera, goddess of motherhood, protector of marriage and Queen of Olympus and the heavens, I had to swear on the fucking Christian God and get baptized too. 

I didn't have a lot of memories left of the actual ceremony. I just remember that the ceremony took place in Geneva and my father was just as silent and angry as I was, while Grace, proud Christian, was happy. It was, in summary, one of the worst days of my life. 

Now …. I was ready to step to my father’s side, but once again it was Grace, who had a positive decisive influence on my life and encouraged me to move to Belfast, my home, where I am enrolling myself at the Police Academy, where I met my good friend Jim Olson, whom I called always Jimmy. 

Jimmy was bearded, he was taller than the little smurf I was, and he was attractive and good-looking like my father. I even allowed him to live with me in my old family house, but it was only out of pure goodness. Jimmy and I were friends, we’re shared almost everything together but that didn’t mean that we had sex together like two college students, because that would never have been good for our relationship. It would have only distracted us too. 

We both still had to go through the training in the academy. Self-defense, the correct handling of firearms and proper police work were top priorities on our curriculum. I myself was the only woman in the academy. The hottest and fucking sharpest topic of conversation ever. Concluded, everyone inevitably stared at me every fucking day, but I was smart, I quickly turned the tables, you know. 

I spread lies and gathered a loyal group around me to make clear who was the fucking queen in his dam house. Also, Grace made a few threats to ensure that my safety and my virginity was guaranteed, but if one bastard doesn’t want to understand it … I just brutally beat him up with a baton, Grace had mailed me, after a week of my training.

In any case, once I had resolved any problems, which stand in my way, I continued to fully concentrate myself on my training, which was hard, demanded everything from me but in the end it was worth it. I learned exactly what I wanted to learn, and it was definitely the right decision to pursue my dream.

After eight months, my training was completed. I and Jimmy and Matthew Eastwood, another good friend of me, who was allowed to live with me but had no right to fuck with me, had successfully passed the Police Constable exam with exceptional performance.

Then I made vacation … I visited for a few weeks my father and Grace, in Geneva on the family estate. My father … My father, used this time to suggest to me that I stay in the loveable town of Geneva to work with him as his right hand, because he had noticed what a child prodigy I was at the academy in Belfast, but to his displeasure I kindly declined the offer during a father-daughter dinner in downtown Geneva.

You know, I just preferred to deepen my knowledge for the piano. In my childhood I played it and Grace gave me lessons, but I had not the nerves to learn it completely like now. And it was really fun to play and gave me other thoughts that I sorely needed after my exam. I was just exhausted and needed an outlet for my aggression that had built up … Next …. Let Me think …. Ahhhhh … I remember that I just needed a week to mastered the instrument perfectly. And I still had time at this point, so I accompanied and supported a children's choir through Switzerland with my piano, of course, and a book with the sonorous name “God hates us all.”

God …. God hates me, but Hera loves me, and she send to every concert Apollon, the god of music, who guided my fingers over the piano on the many concerts, I gave with my lovable little kids. I was almost sad when I had to leave the kids, but it was time to move on. It was time to move to London to join the Metropolitan Police to take up my service.

* * *

Part 3 – A Day in The Life

* * *

My single apartment in central London, where I lived at the time I started my service for the Metropolitan Police, was small, narrow, and filthy. It only possessed a living room, a bedroom with an unusually large bed for its proportions, a small kitchen with a good view to Big Ben and a bathroom room with a small but very cozy bathtub. 

For me, it was enough. And I really felt myself like at home. My stepmother, Grace, who came to see me for a day in my brand-new single apartment a month after I started my service for the police, was totally shocked when she say it.

"God in Heaven, she yells with wide eyes. “Stella, my darling, a have to say … this is no life … Stella … Just Look at this,” she slides with her gloved hand over my washing machine, which has found its place in the kitchen. “Disgusting dust” … She found a small piece of it and she freaks out. She yells at me one more, she asks me why I am living in a dirty hole, but I don’t answer, I just kiss on the nose of “mommy.” 

“Mommy smurf, please, stay calm,” I said with another kissy on the forehead, “I want to live my own life. I'm not Becca ... I'm basically your child. You raised me and you know you can trust me, you agree?”

Grace sighs agreeing, her rage calms, but constantly nagging, she continues, moments later, to inspects my apartment very attentively, while her daemon, a red fox, continued to watch me. He's waiting for me to lose control and yell at “mommy,” but I'm not doing him this fucking favor.

I stay like a good girl calm and take, in a relaxed manner, a seat on my greenish colored couch and cross my stockinged legs. Napoleon, comes with a finger snap to my side and we both continue to gaze at lovely Grace, who takes a long swig from the bottle of wine, she bought actually for me, to process the sight of the “ugly” things she had seen in the last minutes. 

Then she takes off her woman’s gloves and expensive fur coat and takes a seat in my beloved TV armchair. She crosses her booted legs and starts, very proudly, to tell me stories about my beloved father, who is not only allowed to call himself Sir Patrick Wilson, but also Cardinal of the Magisterium. I myself …. I don’t give a shit about it. I only hum with a smirk in agreement, while “mommy” keeps to bug me with her shitty trash and story’s about her successful fashion company.

Later that day, after another lively talk, I go shopping with my stepmother in the posh district of central London, where she buys me various useful things for my police service before she takes me to the most expensive fashion store in London. There I will develop my second passion for my silk blouses and shirts of all kinds. On the other side of the hand, Grace buys me a wardrobe similar to her and thus turns me into a real police lady. 

Once again I can say that I am grateful for the help of my stepmother,” but the apartment in this neighborhood, which Grace wants to buy for me to increase my standard of living, I turn down with a tender kissy on the nose and a loving "Thank you Mommy, but I am fine" hug. Grace is visible disappointed, she uses the next shoe store we visit to let out the anger, which means that my father's bank account has to endure a lot. 

An hour later, we return to my apartment, where I put on my bear decorated kitchen apron and begin to cook dinner, while the Grace sorts my new clothes into my wooden wardrobe. Later, she phones “papa smurf” and I myself put the finishing touches on the dinner. Then, I call for “Mommy” and serve the pasta, which I have refine with tomato sauce and some grated cheese. 

The fine lady doesn't like that, and I was forced to order something from the nearby restaurant. About half an hour later the doorbell rings, I can finally serve Grace her expensive dinner. My own yummy dinner was already in my tummy as I lie down on the couch moments later, already wearing my silk pajamas. I switch on the tv to watch my evening drama series, but my stepmother tries to convince me once more to accept the kind and very accommodating offer she had suggested to me, but I refuse once again and continue to watch my series.

In the meantime, Grace has finished eating the dinner. She walks with soft clicking sounds into the bathroom to wash herself. I, still lying on my couch and cuddling with Napoleon under my cuddly blanket, hear a few minutes later loud yelling insults against my beloved bathroom … Once again I can say the posh and fine Lady Wilson does not like something and I am forced to get up to make sure that my “Mommy” does not kill herself when she sits in my cozy bathtub. 

When you are here ... make yourself useful,” she orders and I take a chair, which I place near the bathtub, then I wash her very soft hair. In this process of togetherness, I always annoy her a little by accidentally pulling on her “golden” hair. I just like it when she starts screaming in pain … it’s so satisfying. And yet so dam funny. 

After massaging the shampoo in to my mom's satisfaction, I wash it off and leave Grace alone. She now needs her half an hour of relaxation and I don't bother her, because I know what a beast she can become if she doesn't get it. Then she gets out of the tub, dries herself off with my help and gets ready for the night. 

When she comes out of the bathroom, she joins me on the couch, which means that I can rise briefly from the couch. Grace herself lies down first, then she pulls me back onto the couch into her strong and motherly arms. I am sixteen years old, but I still love it to be with my Mommy …. Mommy herself loves to be with me. She pets me and puts me slowly to sleep. I myself hardly notice how she wakes me up shortly before 10 p.m. and we go to my bed together. 

The next morning, I wake up in Mommy’s arms. My head is nestled against her soft breast and I have folded my legs like a toddler, but suddenly I am feeling myself sad and depressed. For reasons, which somehow still remain unknow I burst into the tears as soon as Grace wakes up.

"Shhhhhhh ... I'm with you, mommy has you safely in her arms.” She whispers to me and takes me under her covers. She puts her arms around me and begins to sooth and to kisses me. In these very moments I feel myself like a toddler and somehow in a strange way I like it to be a toddler again, but I am a gown up woman. 

I wipe, as soon as I've cried myself out in Mommy’s arms, my tears away and get ready for work, while Grace makes breakfast or, better said, goes to the bakery around the corner to buy it …. Sausage, and fresh rolls, typically German, I think to myself as I sit down at the table and start sipping my coffee. Grace herself puts on her reading glasses and starts telling her gossip about her friends again until the clock strikes nine, time for my daily patrol. But today my patrol is so boring, and I regret having lost the time with her.

When I got home in the evening Grace is already back in the airship to Switzerland, but she set up an account for me, with a few million dollars from my father, and she also got me new stylish furniture for my apartment.

* * *

Part 4 – The Love of My Life

* * *

On a snowy late January day, shortly after my seventeenth birthday on the 24th, which I celebrated with my beloved and almost always drunk sister in my regular pub in the filthy city center of London, I meet Jonathan “John” Alexander Delamare, a charming young businessman with a proud lioness as a daemon.

Her name was of all people Athena …. Athena, the fucking name of my third favorite goddess. 

I remember that I was very disgusted about it. It just stained my beliefs, in my opinion. The names of the gods were sacred, and no one was allowed to take the right to name his daemon after them. It was pure blasphemy and I made it clear to John that he couldn't change my mind about it.

John, accepted this with a chuckle. But with his mocking and very childish grin he wondered how an attractive and wealthy young woman, the daughter of an influential cardinal, who lives in a dirty hole, believes in a few almost forgotten ancient greek gods.

I answer that I was born with the faith. My lovely father believes in it, my hare loving sister believes in it, and besides, I personally hate Christians out of passion. I hate them like a plague. They are mass murderers and just a bunch of perverse failures, who believe in a god, who sacrificed his supposed son on a whim … fucking cunt. 

John, who allows me to call him Fox, laughs and admits that he is a Protestant. He doesn't believe in the fucking Christian God, but he pretends to do it just like me so as not to lower his reputation in society. After all, he is the head of a large company, the Delamare Corporation, which has influence and a lot of power.

Power ... I'm greedy for power, just like Fox, who takes me to the dance floor. His strong arms grip my body and I myself feel a tingling sensation in my tummy as I notice how my chimpanzee comes closer to the meek lioness. Both are already cuddling / dancing with each other when John has just taken the first dancing steps with me.

Meanwhile, out of the corner of my eye, I see my dancing sister kissing John’s brother of the same age, Oliver, without any inhibitions or a sense of discretion. They show their love for each other for everyone present, which forced John to curb Oliver. He scolded him and sent him, drunk as he was, home with Becca. 

John and I returned to the dance floor after a drink to forget the whole thing and spent the rest of the evening together.

* * *

* * *

Couple of days later, on our first date, in my Apartment, we decide to take it slow. We are still young and minors in the eye of the law / our parents, so we set a few basic rules and thus ensure that we do not hurt each other. Then we were able to build a solid relationship, which means that John takes me out to dinner, goes to company events with me as his companion or just spends some time with me to get to know me better until two months later I allow him to kiss me for the first time in front of my apartment.

A week later, during an opera performance, John and I decide that the time was right to take the next step. So, we leave, walking hand in hand, the opera building and go to John’s luxury apartment in Kensington. At that time, I had never visited the apartment itself and that was a good thing, because this night was going to be something special, which we already felt when we took off our coats and stepped into the living room, where the fireplace was already burning.

After a glass of wine and some small talk John asks me if he should take a shower first, but I refuse and say that's fine for me. I like his sweaty smell and I'm sure he liked my smell, which was similar to my own mother's. I can tell you when he kisses my neck and sniffs on me with his nose, I felt that John, driven by it, wants more. He tries wrap his arms around my slim body, but I grab his wrists and dominate him, as Grace taught me.

I tell him honestly what kind of woman I am and what he gets for his submission to me. John says without hesitation that he has no problem with a dominant woman like me. His mother, who has somehow a lion as a daemon, is exactly the kind of woman I am, and he honestly admits that my characteristics attract him very much. 

I answer with a French kiss and a soft “I love you, Fox.” I tell him after my tongue has left his mouth for the second time that I think that Aphrodite, the goddess of love and desire, brought me to him and she blessed us. It was she who gave us this magical evening and blessed it with her favor. 

To show my gratitude to the goddess I close my eyes. I allow John to hold me as I say my prayer, then when I open my eyes I take his wrist, lead it tenderly back to his body and kiss him ... passionate, pure French kisses, which rocket me to Mount Olympus.

Our daemons, love each other more lustfully. Both are already cuddled up on the floor in front of the fireplace when I have just loosened the tie and unbuttoned the white shirt John’s wearing. It takes several more minutes until we, almost completely naked, lie on the fur blankets in front of the fireplace. I wrap my legs around him and a few seconds later I feel him for the first time.

Satisfied ... 

I felt satisfied at this moment for the first time and I can tell you that it was such a nice feeling. It was just a release for me. I knew that I had arrived in life and had chosen my place at John's side. And John knew that too and tenderly continued until it happened ... My first fucking orgasm. I screamed softly and I moaned with an indescribable feeling, before I let myself fall into the blankets. 

I gasped, thanked Aphrodite, and snuggled next to John, who put his arms around me and with the help of my daemon, spread the covers over our bodies. Then we fell asleep peacefully, together as lovers …. as a couple.

When I noticed weeks later, during an observation, that I was pregnant with the first two Delamare offspring’s, John, and his brother, who was now in a relationship with Becca, immediately get me out of my small apartment. They literally grabbed me and dragged me off my couch, out of the apartment. Then came the horde of employees, who carefully packed all the inventory of my lovable apartment in boxes and took it to a warehouse that belonged to the Delamare Corporation.

I myself spent the next few weeks with my future in-laws to get to know them better and to receive lessons on how to behave as a noblewoman. John's mother, Elisabeth, who taught me these things, was empathetic and possessed the necessary calm to prepare me for my marriage. Meanwhile, John, who had traveled to Geneva to beg my still bearded grumpy father for admission to marry me, bought a house for us in the quiet London suburb.

Memories …

I have so many memories of that time … I still remember how I sat in the bakery every morning to have breakfast. I also remember the feeling of getting fatter and the ridiculous frustration of changing my clothing style. 

My service for the police never changed. I still carried it out self-confidently and without restrictions. I patrolled with two children, give lectures in schools, or simply regulate the daily traffic. I was even able to solve a few unsolved murders with my partner Jim and some help from Matthew, much to the pain of the detectives. 

In January 1978, the month of my 18th birthday, I am heavily pregnant, but I still do paperwork for two weeks in addition to the antenatal class, then I go on maternity leave.

On the 1st of march, the time has come for my babies. I give birth to a boy, and a girl, early in the morning in the presence of my birth mother at St Mary’s Hospital in London. I call them Matthew Alexander Daniel and Margaret Heather Elisabeth right after they are born.

Months later, I and John get married in a church that disgusts me so much that I almost vomit, but with Hera's blessing, I get through the wedding that my father-in-law had paid and become ….

Lady Stella Mary-Ann Delamare.

* * *

TO BE CONTINUED

* * *


	23. Stella Delamare - A His Dark Materials Story - Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got a little longer than I thought
> 
> New Chapter Of The Republic of Heaven In The Next Few days!
> 
> If Anyone has Question ... Ask Instgram @lorddelamare99

* * *

Part 5 - Learning To Fly

* * *

It’s 1979, the year when fashion for women is already in line with the coming 90s. I myself am nineteen years old and give birth, on July 15th to my second twins, another boy, and another girl. My mother, who showed up surprisingly before the birth of the twins to support me, has the honor of giving my babies their names. For the baby girl she assigns the name Marisa Marleen Emma. And for the baby boy she assigns the name Marcel Alec Thomas.

I myself have the honor to name the daemons of my two darlings and I decide only to name Marisa’s daemon ... Ozymandias or Oz for short. A version of the throne name of Pharaoh Ramses II. Actually, I don't remember why I didn't give Marcel’s daemon a name. I probably thought of my stepmother again, whose daemon is known to have no name. I can't say whether that was good or bad, but I think Marcel has come to terms very well with what his mommy decided for him. 

When I leave the hospital in August 1979 with my forty-one-year-old father, I am a proud mother of four lovable children, but the upbringing …. the actual upbringing of my four charm bolts cost me nerves. My stepmother, Grace, who recognized my problems early, moved in my house and helped me as best as she could. But the stress of my everyday life and the effort of raising my children are overwhelming, even though I already have two toddlers, who possessed already a certain degree of independence. 

“Honey, it should be a breeze,” Fox tells me, but he has to watch, despite the help he gives me, as I further destroy myself, because I tend to get angry very quickly. I quarrel a lot with my stepmother and take out the built-up anger on my four children, my babies, who are not to blame. I also have difficulty doing the simplest things like changing a diaper or just putting my children in the tub and washing them. I'm desperate and I don't see the blame on me. I blame others until my father has seen enough. 

He's comes from Geneva to London, storms into my house and deliberately slaps me in the face as hard as he could. He gives me now the biggest lecture I've ever had in my life, even Grace's tuition and the many slaps with the palm were pure paradise for me. In the end I kneel in front of him and cry ... I cry like a baby even when he leaves my study and threatens, before he leaves the house, to take my children away from me if I don't change. 

I now realize that the only thing that can help me now is my belief in the gods. So, I get up from the floor and walk with a pounding heart from my study to my babies' nursery. Both of them are sleeping soundly, when I enter the room, including little Marisa, whom I gently lift out of her crib. I sneak to the changing table and take a blue blanket in which I wrap my little baby, then I take the child with me and go back to my study, where I burst into tears again. I fall on my knees with my baby in my arms and look up at the ceiling.

"Shining Hera, bridge of the mighty Zeus, queen of Olympus and the heavens, please, have mercy on me! I have disappointed you …" 

With these words I begin my prayer and beg the immortal goddess to help me out of my wretched suffering. I do not ask for forgiveness for what I have done to my family and my four children. The only meek wish I want is that she takes my children under her protection. My own life is worthless, but the life of my beautiful children is priceless. All four deserve a mother, who doesn't do anything wrong. They deserve their father and grandparents, who can take care of them better than I can. 

I have failed and I let the goddess understand.

With my head bowed and tears in my eyes, I carefully place my baby on the floor. I place Marisa’s daemon, which Napoleon hands me, on the blue blanket. “Forgive me, Marisa, my love,” I give a kiss and step back, humbly waiting for the judgment of the immortal goddess, who suddenly speaks to me and forgives me, before she personally appears before me in a golden light. 

She wears a crown … a golden shining tiara and a long shimmering white dress. Her long hair is pitch black and her eyes sparkle as golden as I had never seen them before. Her lotus staff, the symbol of her power, is made of pure gold. And her daemon, a large and majestic peacock, looks down at me and Marisa as the queen of all mothers stands in front of me. She was and she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen in my long life and she is also the kindest, because she was the lady, who made me a mother. She gave me motherhood classes for a day with calm and understanding. I myself am grateful for that at the end of the day, of which I don't notice much.

I suddenly get so tired. My limbs are weak, and I can no longer walks properly, so Hera brings me personally to bed. She blesses me before she disappears in a golden light, then I fall asleep. The next morning, I wake up in bed with my four children. I take them all four as best and loving as I could in my trembling arms and thank the goddess in a crying fit for giving me courage and I swear that I will not disappoint her for her kindness. I will not fail … I will make my queen proud and be the mother for my children I should be. 

My children get the same promise from me, but most deservedly I give them an apology ... I tell both Matthew and Margaret that I will be a better mother. However, my children are still suspicious. In the next few weeks and months, both will stick more to Grandmother Grace than to me, but I am using this time and learn to deal with my two youngest children again and perfect the knowledge that the mother goddess taught me.

* * *

* * *

When Marisa and Marcel are tender five years old, I am finally real mother. 

I refuse to hire a nanny to look after my children while I work. And also, I refuse to hire housekeeping as my husband suggested as the lady of the house. I do everything that concerns my children and the house myself ... I am a working housewife, also an exemplary aristocratic wife and the best policewoman in the fucking empire. My case clearance rate is so incredibly high that I and Jim, whom I now support a financially, rise unstoppably and rapidly in the police force, but with the rise and increased access to power, I am changing … 

1\. I throw my stepmother out of the house after a heated argument about a slap she gave my son Matthew 

2\. I am now working full-time for the Magisterium 

3\. I do jobs, which require my special skills, which means that I clean up the streets with my personal police force, who is placed at my side in the rank of Detective Superintendent. 

4\. I trim my curly brown hair into a stylish bob …. I no longer wear unformed clothes, instead I wear a fashionable skirt-suits or a simple skirt with a woman’s shirt / blouse, which I combine with boots or high heels. 

With these changes I transform myself more and more into an ice-cold and dominant monster that has no consideration for its fellow human beings. My aggression problems and outbursts of violence, which are still present sinch my childhood only clarify my change.

At Work, my so-called suspects get to feel my change most. I torture them with the blessings of the church and the police department in order to get “confessions” out of them. I myself feel how the gods Deimos and Phobos, the horror and the fear, flow through my hands and through my mind. They influence me and my actions and complete my transformation.

Lyra, who has fallen asleep in my arms, has no idea what kind of monster is slumbering in me or in her meek grandfather. She sees and we only show her the protective and very loving grandparents ... Nana and Pops, who do everything for her. And it should stay this way until Lyra’s health has recovered. Then we will begin the special, on Lyra tuned, upbringing. 

I leave my thoughts and get up from bed while Lyra continues to sleep soundly under my covers. I myself put on and tie my creamy pink antique silk kimono with a tight knot and make my way with my briefcase to my large wooden table, on which I put some case files. Next. I quickly open one of the two large windows, then I take a seat at the table and look at the clock hanging over a picture on the wall ... it is shortly before 7 a.m. when I open the case file, which has something to do with two of Lyra's friends, friends whom we will be paying a visit soon, but first I will destroy them and their families.

I put on my reading glasses and begin my work, which also continues my story.

* * *

Part 6

* * *

I remember once more, this time in more detail and more vividly, my extremely bloody tortures of the many suspects. I remember now more clearly how I beat people up with my fists, break their noses, break a rib or when I felt like it I would break an arm or a leg. They always ended up lying on the ground. They screamed in pain while I crouched on my knees and mocked and humiliated them mercilessly and emotionlessly until it was told what I wanted to know, then I packed my things and Jim brought the broken suspect back to their cells or threw it straight back onto the street without thinking too much.

Streets ... I did the same things in the dirty and fucked-up streets of London ... Beat up people in alleys or insulted them because I wanted to do it to reduce my anger. At the crime scene, when I was there, I just had to look at someone with my smile and people told me everything I wanted to know, because they knew when I showed up, the devil was walking around.

My own four children, who are getting older and grown up from day to day ... month to month, rebel against me. They just want to test limits like normal children do, but such behavior is not tolerated in my upbringing and thus severely punished. I show all four who is the boss in the house. And I shape them, with a strict hand, according to my will, following the example of my hated stepmother. I accept with my parenting methods too that all four develop a feeling of fear of me, but I show them that I truly love with all my heart. As a caring mother, I just want them to get the best and that requires some cooperation from them too. Discipline and an appropriate demeanor towards me are part of it.

Outside of my beloved and remarkable quiet family life, I have, over the next few months, countless love affairs with men of the upper class or the nobility, who are either fresh thirty years old or even early retirees, who sit in their fucking chairs at forty and let someone do the dirty work. Myself, who takes advantage of these cunts, is only interested in their influence or what they can do for me or my family or for my husband's company, but at this very point in my life, I make an exception with a young man.

His name is Jonathan, and he is a tender eighteen years old, half a sweet baby, when, at the behest of his dying father and with the consent of my husband, I take him with me in my bed for one night in my family's house, while my own children slept next door. The next morning, while having breakfast with my children, I feel something like love for Jonathan Jr., so I decide, in contrast to his stupid drug addict mother, to stand by him and to help him find his way around in life.

My own husband, who, with my consent, has a few affairs, I back up with my own love affairs. I help him, his brother, and his father outside of the service actively to expand the supremacy, the state-sponsored monopoly, of the family company.

* * *

* * *

At the age of thirty, after thirteen short years of service for the Metropolitan Police, I, now a loveable redhead, was appointed “Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police Service” with the help of my father-in-law, the Viscount of Falkland. But the acceptance of a woman at the top of the police is not accepted. They just want to oppress me and make me submissive so that I implement their decisions, but I, having arrived at the glorious goal of my professional career, have already anticipated that. 

I play their game for a short time before I put my magisterium supported plan into action. 

First I suspended the leadership of the nationwide police authorities. I create with the assistance of the magisterium a chaos in the whole of the empire, which my loyal and well-placed accomplice used to finally silence the branded traitors of the whole police of Brytain. The rest of the police executives, which are not loyal to the Magisterium, are executed in a secret nationwide bloodbath, which is secretly dedicated by me to the god of war Ares. 

A couple of days, after the little intervention in the structure of the empire, I crown myself to the fucking Queen, Queen of the united Metropolitan Police Service of the British Empire. 

At the same time, we're building a huge property in Oxford, which Marisa, my ten-year-old cute pumpkin, jokingly calls Delamare Manor. In London, the historic capital of the Empire, we are building a new company headquarters with our business partners Michael Morgan and Benedict Sheppard, a high-rise, which my son Matthew calls the Wayne Tower.

We show the whole British Empire that we are the most powerful family, we are undisputed number one.

* * *

Part 7

* * *

I'm spending my thirty-first birthday, in February 1991, alone in Switzerland, where I am accompanying with a good book a children's choir through the cooperative to give concerts. My father, who visited me on my first day off in the deeply snow-covered Engelberg, almost passed out when he saw my "new" hairstyle: reddish, middle length curly hair, cut into a bob as usual.

He can hardly believe that his little, attractive, and beloved baby could ever be so similar to his immortal great love, in spite of the hair. But I stay humble and tell him that it was time for a little change in my appearance, after my stepmother was gone, almost six years ago. My father agrees with a grumble, puts my black ear warmers on me, then he reaches for my gloved hand and we make our way from my hotel to the city, where we quickly go to a small anonymous restaurant to just spend some time together again at our first lunch together in years.

I see and I feel, as we enjoy our lunch after a glass of red wine, that my fifty-three-year-old father, the grandfather of four grandchildren, really enjoys being so close to his eldest and favorite daughter, who had distanced herself from him in recent years, but today we are trying to close the old wounds, which had opened when Grace was kicked out of house by me. 

It was not a good time for him, he tells me, and I answer that it was not a good time for me either, despite my successes and the encouragement from my children, especially from Marcel. There was something missing in my life that even my father-in-law could not replace. My own father replies that he was always ready to talk to me after the incident with my stepmother, but we both know exactly what kind of stubborn goats we truly are. After all, it can’t be change. The past is gone and forgotten. I don't need to worry and should look ahead, papa says to me, before we continue to eat.

After the delicious piece of chocolate cake, which is served as a serve, my father has already a couple of glasses of Tokay and tells me, giggling like a schoolboy, that when my poor stepmother was living with me, very surprisingly, my mother showed up at his door in Geneva. The feelings, which, both still felt for each other were still there and so it wasn't long before both found each other completely naked in bed and had sex under my mother's strict guidance. 

I ask him in shock if he feels any remorse for his actions. After another sip of scotch, my father replies with a negative grumble. He doesn't give a shit if he cheated on his wife, my stepmother, Grace. My own adorable mom still has a fucking special place in his life.

I ask him next how long my mom stayed, and he replied with a laugh that she stayed for a couple of months. She also cared for my two oldest children when they were on vacation in Geneva with my father. 

I myself am stunned after he gave me this story at length. I sip my glass and did not notice that I was teaching the glass with this very sip to process everything. My father himself felt lonely and abandoned, when the love his life vanished once more in the golden light of the setting evening sun. It still torments him, I can feel it when I put my hand on his hand and caressed it with my thumb. I feel pain, I feel that my father is still not over my mother or am I wrong?

Later, back in my hotel, I meet surprisingly my mother for the first time since the birth of Marisa & Marcel. She hasn't aged and still looks as breathtakingly young and beautiful as she did the day she left me. Her favorite green dress smells and still feels the same when I let my hand slide over it for the last time as a toddler, back in Belfast. 

I myself grew up too quickly, she says with a giggle. She gets up from the bed, her heels are clicking on the floor as she walks the short way to me and takes me in her arms. I smell her scent again, I feel my breast press against hers and I suddenly feel a strange feeling of sexual arousement. 

But still, I am my mother’s daughter, but I feel drawn to her like a real lover, who meets her ex again and wants to fuck the shit out of her immediately! … She just wants to feel her whole body so badly ... Almighty Hera …. wonderfully beautiful fantasies, but neither I nor my mother have that time or need to fuck each other. 

Instead, we sat on the bed, holding hands. She squeezes my hand so tenderly and looks so cute in the eye, that I begin to cry. I crawl into her arms and howl my pain, which torture me since we first separated, out of my body. My mother, who takes me under the covers, also has to shed a tiny tear, but like on the first day of separation, she has her emotions under control.

“Stella … my shining star, listen to me carefully …” She begins and tells me that she will be a little more active in my life and in the life of my four children. In what form or way, I will only find out later. 

Then I have to tell her everything about her four grandchildren, especially facts about the ten-year-old, very sweet and cuddly, Marisa Marleen, who is currently on vacation with her grandmother Grace in Italy. For what purpose or why exactly I should tell her all this, she didn't tell me. But she tells me that I have to go on a trip to Greece. What I will find there, she doesn't tell me, but I should believe in the gods so strongly than ever before in my whole life.

Then the time my mother spends with me is over. She gets up from the bed and takes me into a goodbye hug before she wants to disappear from the room after a kiss on my forehead, but I stop her. "Mommy, what's your name?” I ask meekly. “Dad never told me! "

Mom turns around, smiling, "I thought you figured that out already?

"No, Mom," I shook my head, "papa kept his promise he gave you, but you'll surely know that, so please tell me your true name and if I may ask what papa is hiding from me my whole life?”

"He's hiding the obvious from you," she says and steps back into the room. "Remember, my darling … Before I left, you asked me a question."

"I remember,” I say with chuckle, “Mommy, are you a magical aunty, an immortal goddess?"

"I remained silent, the question answered itself."

“All right, mommy,” I get up from the bed and approach her, "but I truly want that you answer my first question, please!”

“Someone else will tell you my name, just be patient, you will find out soon enough! And now no further question! "

“But I have so many questions!” I yell suddenly at her. “Mommy … You just disappeared ... You left me alone all my life!”

“It wasn't easy for me either!” She yells back. “I'm a fucking goddess ... I have other fucking important things to do than to raise a … a spoiled brat like you!”

“Remember mother … Not so long ago you returned to my father. You seduced him, You took his cock in her mouth, and then you have fucked him … You see … you have time for that, but there is no fucking time for me, my sister, or my children!”

"You will restrain yourself, daughter," my mother yells with glowing golden eyes "You don't have to tell me what to do! And if you dare to raise your voice again, I will cause a fucking disaster. And you know exactly what I'm capable of … ,” my mother calms, “Honey, I've given so much to your … our enchanting family and you don't even know it.”

“I know exactly what you gave me,” I reply with wet eyes. “Mommy, do not underestimate me … do not underestimate my love for you!”

“I never have!” Mommy smirks lightly, remaining strict. “Now, pack your things. You will travel to Greece as I tell you, you understand?”

"Yes, my dear mother,” I reply meekly, I will bow to your will!”

"I hope so," she snaps the finger and disappears in a golden light. I myself break off the tour with the choir the next day and immediately travel, as my mother ordered, to Greece, where I find out my mother's true name, but what the gods let me find confuses me, but it stimulates me to take the upbringing of my two daughters more seriously than ever before.

My countless degrees in all fields of science and my studies as a teacher, which I completed during my service, will more than help me in the greatest task of my life, but it will be uncomfortable for my ten- and eleven-year-old daughters.

During their tuition and the normal upbringing that my two daughters receive from me, I am as strict as never before and from them with a strong hand into what they should become. I punish them, like Grace with no mercy if it’s necessary. House arrest, a few hours of work with the staff of the house or being locked up in the own room all day is not uncommon.

The beloved and detailed diaries of my two darlings are checked by me every day. And the time in the city, which is given by her negligent father, is strictly regulated. I make sure that disturbing external influences, like certain friends, in the case of Margaret, no longer exist. In summary, I cut the connections to the outside world and become the center of my two daughters life.

The actual lessons I give my daughters are like one of my good tortures. It starts with the daughter, who has lessons with me, entering the room silently and greeting me with a friendly "Good morning / Good day mother.”

I myself am already sitting, relaxed, at my desk, with crossed legs. I greet my daughter and then without warning I ask my countless questions, which revolve around the latest topic of the lesson and must be answered to my complete satisfaction. A simple “I don't know, mother” is not accepted by me.

When I know everything I want, Margaret or Marisa can sit down at the large wooden table by the window and I start to work through my today’s topics in the subjects: German, English, mathematics, social studies, physics, and housekeeping. Also, I write a lot on the blackboard while I teach. I use pictures too to emphasize something, to clarify something and to help them as much as possible to understand something, but that is also the only "luxury" I grant them, because I also have other methods to make something understandable for my daughters.

I scream at them specifically, I insult and mock them as viciously and as dirty as I can, but I never get violent. I would never dare to touch my children, unlike Grace, but their daemons are exempt. Marisa especially feels this expression of anger. She is often sitting on a chair or lying on the floor, while crying. She wails that she will do it better and that I should stop, that I have something like grace with her, as my instinct tells me, which also tells me that I have to comfort my darling, but for their good, I don't have any choice and keep go on, without mercy or consideration.

At the end of the day, when class is finally over for today, my daughters go to their rooms in silence, often tear-streaked and very quietly under my supervision, to study alone or together for the next lesson.

Outside of class, I give them the “Grandma Grace Standard Program,” which means for me, that I will teach my two darlings everything that is important, from my fashion tricks to my manipulation techniques and my sexual seduction skills. The personalities, they display every day, changes significantly through my training. While both daughters were emotional, loving or even an unbridled tomboy like Lyra as children, they became dominant, self-confident, and ruthless sixteen-year-old women at the end of my tuition.

At St. Sophia’s College, where they both studies, they are given the finishing touches outside of their regular studies by their hated and bossy grandmother Grace, who rented a luxury apartment in Oxford to avoid contact with me. Then both are introduced into the Magisterium, like their two brothers.

Marisa, is doing this "change" especially well in her life so far. She is studying experimental theology at college and has an interest in dust, the most ridiculous of all sins. I make this more than clear to Marisa when I visit her, but she is hairy that dust is the most important topic in our life or even humanity and it will drive my darling, it will drive her to peak performance.

It only takes two years for Marisa to get the degree in experimental theology. To my indignation and to the anger of her two grandfathers, however, she was refused the doctorate she was aiming for. My influence and the pooled power of the two grandfathers is useless and Marisa remains just a simple scholar who, shortly after graduation, falls in love with the ten-year older politician Edward Coulter, who marries her shortly afterwards and takes her with him to London. 

But as Marisa's mother I quickly notice that my daughter is deliberately beaten out of frustration by the unexpectedly violent Coulter. As a mother, the only thing I can do about it is to make a threat and keep the frequency of my visits high to protect my child. And it works. The inconvenience my daughter has to endure is reduced and even with a little help from Edward and the influential Coulter name, Marisa is making career in the Church. 

But … And now comes the malicious but ... Something should soon happen that I never believed would ever happen.

* * *

Last part – Fade Away

* * *

The last part of my very extraordinary life story so far begins at a fundraising gala that I and the freshly baked nineteen-year-old Marisa had organized. Eddy Coulter, her husband, was drunk again that night, and I myself was too focused on raising money for the needy that I failed to notice that Lord Asriel Belacqua, an explorer, scholar, and wealthy and extremely influential aristocrat had an interest in my adorable and incredibly sharp young daughter.

Both were very personable when they were introduced by a mutual friend and I remember that Asriel made a good impression on me ... A lord who respects the laws of the Empire and the absolute sovereignty of the Magisterium, but I should be wrong, because Asriel despised the magisterium as much as I despise Christians. 

Marisa had no idea about it ... I don't think she would have wanted to know either, because Asriel gave her what she wanted. Real love and this real and very pure love, which both felt for each other let them start a love affair, which progressed in front of everyone, in the darkest corners and brought a sugar-sweet development with it, which Marisa told me on my thirty-ninth birthday ..

"Mommy ... I'm pregnant ... I'm having a baby!"

The best birthday present that Marisa has ever given me apart from the self-made photo album, which she gave me as a present for my twenty-eighth birthday. I myself am as happy as never before, I even start to cry when I take my little baby in my arms and say that I'm truly proud of her. Then we go all alone to the next pub and celebrate for the last time being with alcohol and wine, which Dionysus, the god of wine and joy, has blessed.

For the next few months, while Marisa carries her little bean around with her, I'll leave her alone. I want her to be able to prepare for motherhood without my interference, but this time, I don't notice, through this idiotic decision, that Marisa problems get out of hand, while I concentrate on preparing everything for my grandchild. I buy clothes and toys and even have the largest guest room in my apartment converted into a children's room for my granddaughter. 

On August 15, 1999, I am thirty-nine years and two hundred and twelve days old, the time has come. In London, in her own apartment, in her own bathtub, Marisa gives birth to a strong and healthy girl under the medical supervision of her sister and aunt.

I myself arrive at the apartment with my husband when the still nameless baby has already been examined, dried, weighed, and is lying, wrapped in one of the fragrant blankets, in the safe arms of her mother. The mother herself is happy what I notice when she carefully hands the girl into my arms. She is beaming and she is watching me as I take a seat in the armchair next to the bed and begin to rock the bundle in my arms.

With Lyra Louisa and Pantalaimon I humbly and unintentionally give my grandchild and her enchanting daemon, who is sleeping the shape of an Ermine on her tummy, their names. The girl herself chuckles with joy, she plays with my index finger and she beams with her pacifier in her mouth, just like her mother did when she was in my arms for the first time.

Fox, my beloved husband gives me a well-deserved kiss before I carefully hand him his first granddaughter for the first time and step out of the room to join the rest of my family, who greet the newest member of the family over a glass of scotch.

Marisa stays, however, when my husband leaves the room, alone ... She is and she always has been alone. And what she feels I will call shame later ... She is ashamed of a child that has a bleak future ahead.

* * *

* * *

On a rainy day, Lyra is a little over three months old, I am sitting in my office in London. I work normally and completely relaxed until my lunch break and are planning at the same time to take my grandchild home with me for the first time, for a few days. But suddenly there is a knock on the door of my office and my secretary, in tears, brings me the terrible news that my grandchild died unexpectedly in his sleep.

My daughter Marisa has disappeared out of grief over the loss. Not even the biggest loser himself Edward Coulter, whom I find drunk in a bar, knows where my daughter is, so I have to take action myself and go on a long and ramified search, until I find my daughter days later, outside of Oxford, more precisely on one of the numerous estates of Lord Asriel.

There, in this place, in this house, he hides my granddaughter, who is being nursed by an Gyptian wet nurse, Maggie Costa, and her missing mother. My anger and hatred for Marisa, Asriel and the Gyptian’s, who helped him withhold Lyra from me, grew with every passing second. My sons who had accompanied me had to hold me back and bring me under control, otherwise I would have torn the house to pieces. 

When I get home, I get drunk to forget my pain, but suddenly when I was sitting in my armchair just before I am falling asleep a thought came to me and everything made perfectly sense ... Marisa's shame, the pretense of death of Lyra and the whole game of hide-and-seek .... Lyra is Asriel's daughter. It became even clearer when I took a closer look at a photo of Lyra with a magnifying glass, the resemblance was absolutely amazing.

"A fucking Sin ... Hera help me!" I shout out of myself and draw up a plan to save Lyra and Marisa from the lurking disgrace, but it was too late because someone had told Eddy what I had found out and so he made his way to kill Lyra while Asriel was on a hunting trip, but again someone was there and told Asriel what Coulter was up to.

I myself arrived at the scene of the incident with my armed task force when it was all over ... Coulter killed by Asriel and Lyra temporarily under ecclesiastical care, but she shouldn't stay long, because I made my claims clear and demanded that my only grandchild will be handed over to me as soon as possible. 

But then the numerous newspapers of the empire, or better said the journalists, got fucking wind of the matter and they turned it into a fucking scandal, which culminated in a dam lawsuit in which Marisa disavow Lyra and accused her lover Asriel for deliberately killing her husband. So, it came what my husband had expected ... Despite her defense, Marisa was ruined and Asriel was ousted, but he somehow managed to get his daughter out of a monastery and hide it again.

My trust ….

My trust in Marisa is destroyed. With tears in my eyes, I dismissed her a week after the trial. I tossed, my own flesh and blood, out of my house with a big fucking kick in the ass, leaving her alone too with the meager remaining Coulter heritage in hand.

As soon as I could think clearly again, I fully concentrated on the search for my grandchild. So, I went back to good old police work, following every trace I could find, and just before my grandchild's first birthday, after months of searching, I find it at Jordan College. So, I leave everything where it is. I drive to her as fast as possible and finally take Lyra Louisa, in August 2000, in the master’s office, in my arms. 

But my joy only lasts briefly when Dr. Carne, the college master's, shows up in person and takes my baby away from me. He made me understand in a clear voice that Lyra would stay in the hands of the college. Asriel had made sure of this by invoking the Scholastic Sanctuary, an ancient law that granted asylum to "scholars" like Lyra.

My dam power and the fucking influence I possessed was useless, there was nothing I could do about it and had to left the master's office without Lyra Louisa. Devastated, in tears, I then walk aimlessly and mourning hand in hand with my daemon through the glorious and historic halls of the college until my husband, who had followed me, finds me, and brings me home, where I am hiding in Lyra's room.

I don't want to see anyone, I mourn alone with my daemon and my dog Beethoven jr.

After a week, my father comes to me and spends two days with me in Lyra's room, but in the end he has to admit that he cannot do anything and I myself am still trapped in Lyra's room. I'm on the verge of madness, but my mother comes back to save me. She goes down on her knees and takes her red haired, forty-year-old, and embittered baby in her arms and encourages her, as Hera did, a long time ago.

She tells me that it is the holy will of the gods, the will of the fucking fate, that Lyra Louisa Delamare ********** is raised by me. I cry one last time, then my tears are gone, and I leave the room in front of which my son Marcel is waiting with crossed arms, wearing a white shirt and black pants, just like his father.

"Mommy, is everything all right?" He asked worried, coming closer too.

"Yes … I am feeling myself better than ever," I answer with a chuckle and are taking my darling, my beautiful boy, who gives me so much strength as never in my whole life, in a loving hug. Not even his father or siblings are possessing the almost magical skills, which has passed on to Lyra through his twin sister.

Both are my family ... My only true family that I will or would like to have, because the three of us are of the same kind, of the same special blood that my mother gave us, and I burn it into his brain as firmly as I do only can. I make clear to my son that all he will ever do has to be for his beloved and only niece.

Then I give him a kiss on his forehead, but Marcel has something on his mind before I leave him. "Mommy," he says, running his soft fingers through my long hair, "you should dye it blonde, like you used to ... like you did for me and only for me!"

"You don't like my red-brown tone anymore?" I ask him.

"Yes, but it's time for a change, don’t you think?”

"I see … I'll comply with your request, darling," I answer with a giggle and rest my head on my son's soft chest. His strong arms are meanwhile stretching out and wrapping tightly around my body. Then my son begins to rock me as gently as only he can. His kin drops softly on my head and seconds later I am a unit with my son. 

I have completely disappeared into the safe arms of my darling, who shortly afterwards brings me out of balance in a controlled manner, puts his left arm under the back of my knees and lifts me up to carry me to my bedroom, where he gently lays me down in my bed and spreads the covers over my clothed body.

“Are you lying comfortably?” He asks me, giggling, sitting down on the bed.

"No, Marcel, not yet," I say and open my covers. "Lie down with me, honey. Mommy needs some cuddling time with her favorite darling.” Marcel nods with bowed head. He lowers his body and opens his shoes, while I sit up in bed and begin to massage his shoulders briefly before I put my arms around him and cuddle with him. "Should Mommy help you, darling?" I ask.

"No, almost done," he grumbles like his father and pulls his shoes off then I pull him onto the bed and gently push his body down until his head lies gently on his father's pillow. Seconds later I lower my head next to it and pull the covers over me and my son.

* * *

* * *

January 2001, shortly before my forty-first birthday, I visit my granddaughter at Jordan College for the first time in several months with my freshly dyed blonde and curly hair. The master receives a letter from me personally, which declares that my future visits can’t be blocked. Then I go to Lyra, who is currently playing in her so-called nursery. 

When I enter the room, I introduce myself as a friend of her father's, who has been instructed to keep a sharp eye on Lyra, next to her uncle of course. The girl is happy about it, she shines like her grandfather and she laughs as childlike as her aunt Margaret when I take her in my arms. She tells me that she is so happy to have a new friend with whom she can have so much fun and I promise her with a giggle that I will do my best to make this come true. Then I take off my black round-toe pumps, sit down with Lyra on the floor and start to play with her for the first time.

From now on, at least once a week, I spend time with my granddaughter in the presence of Alice Lonsdale, Lyra's loyal young nanny, but I solve this problem very quickly by putting a few checks into the pocket of Alice, so that she can give me more privacy and some information about Lyra's uncle's presence. So, it is possible for me to exert the greatest possible influence on my grandchild without her uncle or the master noticing.

Then, when I've got an idea of Lyra's distress, I'll make sure that her so-called room is renovated. I also make sure that she gets decent clothes and toys, but what I and her grandfather give her are stolen or taken away by the so-called educators. Nevertheless, I try as best I can to carry out my sacred mother role. But I know all too well that if Lyra continues to live in this cursed college, it will never be enough. Her real father hardly cares about her and deliberately lies to her what I do myself, I admit that, but I have no choice and I have to force myself to do it every time.

My daughter, Lyra's mother, is making something of her life in the meantime. She founds the league of St. Alexander and the General Oblation Board. She creates Bolvangar, a huge research facility in the cold and merciless north, and, like me, climbs the corporate ladder without consideration. My granddaughter doesn't exist for her, but I am once again wrong. She desperately tries to get the girl out of the college, but Asriel's blockade prevents, that Marisa can reach what I want. I myself can cleverly disguise my visits and the deep relationship I have with Lyra with a few lies.

Three months after her second birthday, my grandchild becomes seriously ill. She has a high fever, she vomits tirelessly, and a severe flu paired with a dry cough ties her ultimately to bed. Her aunt Margaret is furious after she got the news. She takes her twin brother and the special forces team of her father, then she drives to the college. She gets out of the car, she chases like a tornado into the college, into Lyras room and takes her niece with her to the hospital, where she treats and cares for the girl personally until Lyra is in a condition, which allowed the girl to return to the college, but I prevent that. I stormed like my daughter into Carne’s office and fight for the right to keep Lyra at home until she is healthy.

And Carne agrees. His only right and logical decision he will ever make in his wasted and fucked-up life. I congratulate him on it and say this to his face, then I disappear from the room and have the college searched for the first time. Jim leads the operation, and he makes sure that this day goes down in history, while I pick up Lyra from the hospital in the evening and take my child home with me. 

Unfortunately, Lyra herself doesn't notice much of her time at home at Delamare Manor. She sleeps most of the time with her cuddly toy to her chest and her pacifier in her mouth, while I sit on the bed and watch over her, for full three weeks. 

During this time, I get used to having my grandchild with me and I am happy for the first times since Lyra was born, but when the three weeks are up, and Lyra is healthy again, we have to bring her back to the College. Lyra herself is dejected, she cries, and she screams when I tell her the news. She really wants to stay with Aunt Stella and her dog named Beethoven, who always slept with her in bed. But we as a family have no choice.

I take Lyra in my arms and Margaret injects her without much pain a medication that helps my baby to fall asleep. Then I send Margaret put of the room and take a seat in the rocking chair beside the bed. I rock her to sleep, but again I have no control over my feelings. I cry while Lyra gets more and more tired until she falls asleep. 

“I’m so sorry,” I say in a whisper and rose from my chair. “please … forgive me. But, my daughter, I promise you can come home soon, did you hear? Mommy will take you home as soon as possible. We will be together, the gods have spoken!” I lower my face and kiss my child.” May Hera the queen of Olympus and the heavens bless you my beloved daughter! … …. Jonathan!!” 

My husband comes into the room immediately. He bows his head as he takes Lyra out of my arms. He picks up the bag of her belongings and takes his granddaughter personally to the dam shithole called Jordan College, while I sit at my desk and plan my next retaliatory strike. Meanwhile John reaches the college, he takes Lyra in his arms again and walks, led by Athena, through the halls and stairs of the college until he hands Lyra to the waiting Alice on the second floor in the presence of the master.

"Take good care of you,” he says with a smirk. “Alice, my wife trusts you, don't forget that!”

"I will, MyLord!"

"And now to you … Bastard!" John grabs the master and presses him to the wall. Athena roared immediately and she raged as loud as never before and fights the scientists present away, then she nods to John, who tightened his grip. “I'll finish you off! I will let you feel exactly what my poor wife … the grandmother of this child is going through! And I promise you as Lyra’s Grandfather that you will kneel in front of wife and beg for mercy, but neither I nor she will not show any. Make a note of that, pathetic cunt!!” 

With these words he lifts the rector of the wall and gave him the hardest left in the world. Alice got a short, satisfied smirk to see, then John disappeared back into the darkness of the cold rainy night.

A few weeks later I fully concentrate on my task, but for that I have to disappoint Lyra and keep my distance from her. I reduce my visits and the time I spend with her, but I don't notice in time that Lyra is getting into very serious trouble. She starts to stutter because of the tough and very strict upbringing she gets from her father and the staff of the college. She is mocked and bullied by her alleged friends, who frolic with her on the streets of Oxford every day.

I am responding to this unexpected turn of events by giving my eldest son, Matthew, the order to gather incontrovertible evidence of the college's ineptitude, while my family launches the first attacks on college. I myself try to help Lyra Louisa as best I can, but my efforts are in vain and the suggestions I make to improve Lyra's life are thrown off and put under the table.

On Christmas Eve 2003, I will make my last visit for the time being. I bring presents and something to eat, which I and the meanwhile four-year-old Lyra eat alone in one of the large dining rooms, while the fireplace behind us provides warmth. We spend most of the time sitting in silence by the fireplace before I start telling Lyra a few stories, but quickly I have to stop because firstly Lyra is not in the mood and secondly angry at her uncle again ... No letter from and no presents too.

She is also tired and exhausted and so I have to pull the plug for tonight and bring Lyra back to her room, where I undress her and lay her back on the bed. I put a diaper on her because I know she likes to tend to bed wetting, even today when she sleeps in my bed. Then I put on her silk pajamas, which I bought especially for her, and put her to bed. I spread the covers and give Lyra her cuddly toy. 

“Sleep well, little star … Grandmommy loves you, so much!” I say as lovingly as I could and give Lyra a good night Kiss. Then I rise on my feed and leave in tears the room with my daemon. I walk down the narrow stairwell and meet downstairs Lord Asriel, who accidentally has bought Christmas presents. 

Unfortunately, I have completely forgotten a lot of our following conversation, but I remember clearly that told him before I left that I would be holding Lyra in my hands very soon and I would keep my promise.

* * *

* * *

Late October of this year, 2005, after a long hunt through the north I hold my grandchild finally in my arms and brought her home, but like the first time, I have to nurse Lyra back to health. Her illness has disappeared in the here and now, but she is still very weak and my worries about her health are not exactly easy to bear, but when she gets up out of the corner of my eye, puts on her silk dressing gown and comes to my side, I've forgotten my worries.

"Come here, my sweet little mouse," I giggle and reach under her arms and lift Lyra onto my lap. I close my arms around her and with it my files and my life story, part of which you already know and now you also know the rest of my wonderful life story from a book.

I have to admit, I hate my life, I hate my life without Lyra, without my beautiful child, which is carved out of the face of my mother. Maybe she's a reincarnation of her or just a gift from my mother, I really don't know, but I know one thing, I love my grandchild like a daughter. She is my daughter, and I am her mommy .... The only real one, I think at least, but I had to realize a long time ago that Marisa will forever be her only true mommy.

Everything I have done or will do, as my mother said to me in Lyra's room (unfortunately I left it out), I will do for my daughter and my grandchild. I forgave her on that day and maybe threw one or the other thing at her feet to help her, because Marisa belongs to my real family.

I'm proud that she gave me Lyra. I am proud that she tries better than me to be a mother to her child, even though she is repeatedly given low blows, but that has to stop. I have to protect Marisa at all costs and help her raise Lyra as best I can, but first we have to get her father out of the way, and I can't do that without Marisa.

So, Marisa ... forgive me for what I'm going to do to you, forgive me for having to break your heart. I don't mean it that way, but it has to be!


	24. The Calm Before The Storm

There is a strange silence in the hallway as I, Marisa Coulter, step out of my bedroom with my daemon, Oz. Nobody, neither my mom or my aunt, can be seen or heard, not even my daughter Lyra, who is lying very likely in these moments in the safe arms of her grandmother, my own mother, who tries more and more to take my baby away from me or has she already done so?

I can't judge, I only know that somehow my mother is trying to reconnect and to bond with me for a particular reason, which remains unknown to me. She tries too to rebuild our close relationship we had in my childhood, but all of her deeds so far only prove the opposite to me or am I too blind to see that my mother, Stella Delamare, does everything just for me?

I really don't know, but I do know one thing and that is that my personal life is fucked up. I am on the ground, I am alone, and I will soon marry a man, who has deeply hurt myself and my child, especially my child. Does he see his guilt? Yes. Does he see he's breaking his daughter's heart with it? I don't think so. His apology was just simple, not very stirring for a loving father, whom I am personally disappointed with, but what good is all this grief to me?

I keep shuffling down the hall, I hear two voices when I stand in front of my mother's door: The soft and very happy voice of my mom and the tender and still very tired voice of my daughter. I can only guess what she's doing, but I'm glad that at least Lyra can spend a few carefree days and that's only because of my mother, who tries to bond with me.

"Come on Oz," I get on my knees and take my fluffy cuddly monkey in my arms. I immediately close my eyes and I feel myself transported back to my childhood back in London. I remember many hours Oz and I spent in bed together with a cup of hot chocolate. I hold him tightly in my arms, I smell on his fur while I hug him as best as I could. My still young mother is always behind me. She combs my brownish, of sweet roses smelling hair and holds me in her arms, while she tells me stories about ancient gods and heroes. I don't believe her and mock her for this crap ... A stupid try to scare me so much that I obey her, but as I found out later, I should have better listened to her. An old saying does not say in vain that wisdom comes with age. I probably should have listened to it. 

I put Oz back on his four paws and we enter together the completely empty kitchen. Breakfast or coffee has not yet been prepared, so I'll start with it first, while it's snowing outside.

* * *

* * *

"Nana ... T… the… theirs s…. sno… snowfall out… outs … outside," Lyra yells amazed. She loosens my arms around her delicate body, she jumps off my lap and races quickly to the big two windows with a chair from the table. She pushes it against the wall with a bang and climbs on it with her daemon, who is jumping soon on the windowsill, as fast as possible, then she marvels together with him at the beautiful landscape, which is characterized by the surrounding forest, which is getting whiter and whiter.

"Louisa…. Don't fall down, I warn you," I scold, getting quickly up from my chair. Then I walk over to her and wrap my arms around her again while we both look outside. We see a lot, but we hear very little. There is a relaxing silence in the world around us, which I always wish that it would never end. Maybe the nature man speaks from me or simply the middle-aged woman, who wants to have some peace to relax herself, while she spends some time with her young granddaughter.

Lyra tells me she thinks the very same way. She turns around in my arms and looks into my blue eyes. Simultaneously, her hands stretches out, unfold the fingers in a flowing movement, which slide soon afterwards through my long blond hair and comb it too as tenderly as I can do it. “Y… You … are … so p… p… pret.. pretty, my bea… beautiful,” Lyra jokes with a smirk. 

“I can say the same about you too, honey,” I answer. “Tell me, does mommy like to comb your hair?”

"A….. Act.… Actual… Actually sw… swe.. sweetie, Beethoven l… lik… likes to … do … that."

"With his big paws?" I frown in amazement. “Louisa, my little star ... Beethoven is a dog.”

“Don't judge him, woman!” Lyra scolds in a rage without stuttering. She shows her teeth, and her face is turning reddish. "Beethoven … is t.. the b… be.. best mas… mass.. masseur in … the … world! N… Nobo… Nobody co… com.. comes c… clo.. close to … his a…. abil… abilities, not even mommy or you!”

"Louisa … Louisa, relax, my sweet darling, Nana just wants to tease you," I answer with a soft giggle, putting my arms around the very large Lyra. “Beethoven just possesses a very close and deep friendship with you,” I continue. "You see, he always plays with you, comforts you like I am never able to do, but his best characteristic is that he is always there when you need him and you need him a lot in these days, even when Grandmommy puts you to bed.”

“H… H… He th… then a…. al… alwa.. always c… cra… crawls u… un… under my … covers,” Lyra adds with a smirk. She bows her head and thinks of her dog, which I raised like a child with my own hands. Lyra knows this all too well and her eyes are getting wet quickly. She misses him like so many things in their lives.

"It's okay, don't cry," I whisper and lift Lyra off the chair. I let her hop for a moment, then I carry her back to bed, where we both hide under the covers. Our daemons are always very close to us. They feel that we need their presence most right now, especially Lyra. She nestles closer to me and I can hold her in my arms like last night without any problems, while I comfort her and above all give her what she needs most: love ... motherly love, which, as always, comes from me Gets excess. I literally crush her with it, but I know when it's enough. I just have to be there for her and hold her while we are lying, enjoying the silence before we go downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

* * *

Half an hour later, arrived downstairs with her grandmother, Lyra is racing forward at a mad pace. She passes the living room in seconds and storms like a human cannonball into the kitchen where, accompanied by a delighted laugh, she is caught by her standing mother. She throws Lyra as high as she can into the air and catches her again with a low chuckle.

"Mama Bear!" Lyra shouts out of herself. She grips tenderly her mother's delicate head with both hands and presses a big soft kiss on her mouth with lots of pure love. She just lets her mother feel how good it is to be with her, how good it is to be loved by someone, who is really close to you, and it brings another effect … A smile on Marisa’s face. She finds her happiness again and fools around with her daughter. She tickles the girl with her fingers, whose nails are lacquered in a soft reddish orange, and she kisses Lyra with her mouth all over the face, which only makes the girl laugh even more.

"M… Mom… Mommy ... I … I love y… you … too," Lyra says when the kissing attack is over. She wraps her arms around her mother's neck and becomes still as her mother slowly carries her to the window.

“Did you sleep well, little star?” Asks Marisa in a whisper, arriving at the window, shortly afterwards.

"Grandma s… sno… snored," whispers Lyra, looking at her grandma, who is watching her with a grin out of the corner of her eye. Her daemon, Pan's grandfather, doesn't seem to be paying very much attention to the mother / daughter duo, but Lyra knows that this is just a disguise. 

"I ..." Marisa pauses. "I myself slept like a bear after your father called me."

"W… Wh... What d… d… did … he w… wa… want?" Lyra asked, looking curiously at her mother.

"He asked if we arrived safely and if you were already in bed ... So, the usual."

"Did he ... a..… ap.… apolo... apologize … to … you?"

Marisa turns pale, her smile disappears, "In his way, you know him."

"S…. Stub… Stubborn pa… pa.. papa be.. bear," Lyra nods in understanding. She raises her left hand and caresses her mother's cheek. "D… Don't wo… wor.. worry a… about … it, e…. ev... every… everything … will .. be .. fi… fine, Grandmommy t… to… told me, w… when … she put me .. to b… b.. bed."

"I hope so, my star," Marisa combs Lyra's hair briefly, comprises the back of Lyra’s head, and gives her daughter a big and very long kiss on the forehead. She closes with it her eyes, she thinks of Asriel and her budding hatred, which has been very much influenced by her mother's words.

She is slowly beginning to believe, and her mother feels this change. She recognizes it by Marisa's eyes, she sees her resemblance to her child, which can only feel hatred and anger. She is injured and that only makes the mother who is defending her child more vulnerable.

“Louisa darling, are you hungry?” Stella calls out. "Do we want to eat something, what do you say?"

“Yeah, I … I … am h… hun… hungry l… like … a … Stelly Bear!”

“Who?!” Stella frowns, reaching for the coffee. “There are no bears of this kind in the whole world, my little darling.”

“Nana, y… you … a… are t…. th… that ki… kind …. of a b…. b… be… bear!”

“Me???” Stella chuckles with a loving smile. “At most Grandpa Fox is a bear. An old stupid one to be precise.”

“Mom …” Marisa walks back to the table, with a loving smirk. “No insults or expletives, she's still a baby.”

“My cute and adorable baby,” Stella adds with a wink. She watched closely the reaction of Marisa, which promptly followed in the form of a scowl, then Stella’s daughter turns her back on her mother. 

She sits down on her chair and begins to prepare a breakfast plate for Lyra, feeling a small but warm feeling in her tummy too as Oz and Pan nestled closer. Both daemons are now feeling something like love for each other for the first time, since only Oz had felt such a strange feeling before, when he had to comfort the wailing Pantalaimon a couple of times as well as in the stairwell of Jordan College when Pan jumped into his arms.

The chimpanzee, Napoleon, observed the ongoing very closely as he sat cross-legged in front of one of the table legs at Stella's feet, who was preparing a bread with sour cherry jam. She drank a little more coffee too to forget the very mild headache, which were caused by the consume of the wine last night. 

Her sister, Becca, who had been able to cope with the wine a little better, came, a couple of minutes later, down the stairs with her husband in tow and sat down at the table too.

They started to eat, but there was still silence under the table.

Napoleon himself seemed a bored, he just sat still on his place and inspected with the greatest precision his black fur. None of the other daemons dared to approach the proud chimpanzee until Pan broke away from Oz. 

He jumps to the ground, turns into a reddish fox, and slowly begins to approach the chimpanzee. However, Lyra and Stella were not able to notice it for the time being until Pan finally lands with a targeted jump on his grandfather's lap and was caressed tenderly by him. 

Oz, who had a distant relationship with his "father", hesitated at first, but a little later he overcome himself and managed it to jump from the chair to the floor to walk to his father’s side. 

But unnoticed by Oz, the chimpanzee's hand begins to slide gently up and down his back, while Stella, sitting next to Marisa, did the same with her daughter's hand. She caresses it so tenderly, that Marisa hardly noticed it, but when she did, she feels a tingling sensation in her tummy. 

She feels too, that her mother tries to get closer to her and to bond with her, after all that had happened. But to Marisa’s displeasure, Stella begins quickly to whisper the same thoughts she had whispered to her daughter last night. Immediately on the spot, Marisa leaves the table.


End file.
